The Lightning Strike
by F Elizabeth
Summary: Allison Rossi is a newbie to Forks, Washington, having left her father and step-mother in Houston. She has low expectations, but what happens when she becomes an interest of Jasper Hale, the handsome boy who stares at her in Physics class?
1. Prologue

_**This is my first Twilight fanfiction, so please leave nice reviews:) Even though I'm a new member, I've been writing this story for quite some time. About nine months, actually. I'm merely borrowing Mrs. Meyer's awesome characters for my own plot and made up a new one to add to the bunch. I know most of you are obsessed with Alice and if you really like her, then this is the worst place possible for you to be. The prologue just came to me, so please enjoy:)

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**Prologue**

Felt as though my lips had been stitched together, I couldn't speak. My heart thumped frantically against my rib cage, searching for a way out. I tried to swallow, but it was as if cakey white glue lined my throat. My palms sweat and I hastily wiped them across my jeans, although it was no help.

The freezing cold wind chilled me to the marrow of my bones and I shuddered. I wished I had had the sense to wear a jacket. What was I thinking, coming here in the dead of night without a jacket? Oh yeah, I was trying to slip out without her noticing me and I left my only heat source with her.

The wind also whistled like a piccolo, producing a soft, high-pitched whine as it raced through the tree branches. The branches swayed back and forth, casting menacing shadows on the wet grass. The figures moved animatedly like actors in a play.

Snow and frost layered the grassy ground thinly, as this part of the state didn't get much snow. The ground was wet and marshy, and with every movement, I felt like I was in quicksand, the muck threatening to suck me in.

It was pitch black, but the bright moonlight acted as a flashlight, allowing me to see the stone before me. The inscription was weathered, the words in the process of vanishing. I pressed my fingertips against the first word and traced the symbol. Slowly, my fingers ran over the seven letters of my name.

I fell back, shocked by my name on the stone, and bumped against the stone behind me. _It couldn't possibly be me, _I fearfully thought, _I'm not dead yet. _I eagerly sat up and leaned forward again. My fingertips found the end of my name and searched for any other symbols. I hit an R and an O. Before I had time to interpret the last few letters, a small head rose from behind the frozen stone, witch-like finger nails wrapping around the curve of the rock.

"I'm not dead," I said to the head, not knowing if it would respond. "I can't be. I'm only 18. I have a life."

"On the contrary, my dear," a voice argued, soft but terrifying. The voice sounded like that of a small girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old. "_Had_ a life."

The figure leapt from behind the stone, her cape of ghostly white hair flying behind her. The girl's skin glinted in the glimmering moonlight. Her blood-red eyes struck like daggers as she came down on top of me and dug a pair of claws into my arms. I let out a deafening howl, like that of a wolf, and my eyes shut as I flung my hands above my head.


	2. Chapter 1: Complications

**_So, happily, this is the first chapter. It's very short, but it gives information about why she's leaving. When the rest of the story is posted, the chapters will get much longer, so please bear with me:) Reviews are always nice.

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Jolting up and covered in sweat, I woke suddenly, breathing hard. Darkness was beside my window and the full moon shone, large and cream colored. The woman beside me was asleep, the corner of her pursed red lips drooling onto her shoulder.

The main lights were off and only a few small glows emanating from the back and front. I heard my heartbeat thud against my chest like a drum in my ears. The two other rows of people were fast asleep, along with the rest of the plane. It appeared I was the only passenger awake and alert besides the attendants.

That dream had felt so real, so lifelike. It was more of a nightmare. I rolled up my sleeves to check my forearms for scars or excessive bleeding. When I saw neither, I sighed in relief and sunk back into my seat. The woman stirred beside me and changed positions so her head leaned to the person in the aisle seat. The man snored behind me, making a whistling noise as he exhaled.

My watch said 1:15 AM. Only another hour or two until we reach our destination: Seattle, Washington.

Since my father remarried, he'd been on the road, traveling with his new wife, Vikki, as she tours the countries to display her works of magnificent artwork in well-known museums. I traveled with them for one weekend, my father driving me home so I could attend school the next Monday. Usually, I'd be -thrilled to witnessed wonderful works of art, and I was at first, but now it was a snore-fest, seeing the works over and over.

Vikki then got her brilliant idea: send me to live with my birth mother in Washington. This way, my father wouldn't need to drive me home from New York or Maine during the tour. This plan received two positive votes: one from me, ready for a taste of freedom from all this boring traveling, and one from Vikki, probably too eager to get me out of her sight. She hated me. My father, on the other hand, was against not seeing his "baby girl" for a year and a half, seeing that was how long they were touring. And then there was always a possibility of another tour.

But in the end, Vikki persuaded him to 'set me free', in her words. Setting me free in Washington state. The small, quaint town of Forks, to be more specific.


	3. Chapter 2: New Arrival

_**So this is the second chapter! I'm going to be busy for the next three weeks, but I'll try to update every week when I have a day off. I haven't looked at the chapter since I wrote it, so please forgive me for any weird writing, I don't know XD. Anyway, enjoy the chapter and reviews are always nice!**_

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The plane rumbled and grumbled, tilting its nose forward as we landed. Flight attendants scurried up the narrow aisle, telling off people for unbuckling their seatbelts too soon. The plane bounced as we hit the runway and slowed to a stopped outside the terminal.

I waited as the drooling woman, now awake and drool-free, tried to yank her suitcase from the overhead bin. Her frail arms couldn't do the job and they uselessly pulled at the handle. Before I lost my patience, a stewardess pulled it down for her.

And of course, I was stuck behind her in the aisle as she crept forward, slower than a sloth. But eventually, I broke free and moved into the large seating was filled with people ready to board their flight. I moved out of the way of the flood of people and searched for my mother. Since I hadn't talked to her in seven years, besides on the phone on holidays, it seemed normal to called her by her birth name: Mary. But I wasn't allowed to call her that to her face.

Mary stood at a kiosk, gazing at the baubles on display. She snatched a small wind up and watched it scurry across the flat surface. A strand of her long black hair was caught in the bauble's leg and she stood up straight, the toy hanging from her hair. I approached her and she yanked it from her mane, placing it back on the counter.

"Allison," she greeted, "how are you?" Mary pulled me into a tight embrace and I smelled her sunflower scent that brought back summer memories.

"Fine," I responded and took a good looked at her. She was different from my father. Black, unruly hair and blue eyes, completely unlike him, with his auburn hair and emerald eyes. Red lipstick stained one of her front teeth as she smiled and led me down the airport walkway to the parking garage.

"So," Mary said as we sped down the highway, "your hair looks longer since I last saw it."

I picked up a strand of my rich auburn hair that landed at my shoulder and studied it. When she last saw me, I was in fifth grade and my hair was long enough to sit on.

"It's shorter."

"Oh."

This shut her up and gave me the opportunity to study my new surroundings: tall oaks and firs covered in luscious green left, the usually blue sky that was masked with gloomy gray clouds, and the ever-present rain that dotted the windshield. It was beautiful, of course, but not my kind of place. It was too green. The sunny beach was where I could live for the rest of my life, if I wanted to.

We passed as sign that beamed WELCOME TO FORKS! lit by a miniscule lamp and headed into a small town with dark compact shops and diners, illuminated by streetlamps. Since it was barely 5 AM, the town was barren.

"That," Mary said, thrusting her arm over me, "is where I work." She pointed to a darkened beauty salon, complete with a spinning red and white pole. The building was a vintage white with decorative columns and woodwork. On the roof, a sign that said Anna and Friends was painted in a deep crimson.

"Anna is the manager," she explained, stopping at a red light. "And that is my favorite diner!" She pointed once more to an antique restaurant a few shops down from Anna and Friends. The sign deemed the eatery Ray's.

The light flashed green and we headed into the suburb part of town. We passed houses of all different shapes and sizes until Mary stopped and pulled into the drive of a two story house, complete with a white porch and matching swing. Another car, this one green compared to Mary's white, sat in front of us.

"Ah," she said. "Good to be home, isn't it honey?" Mary swung herself from the car and retrieved one of my bags from the trunk. Actually, it didn't feel like home; only a house that I live in. Italy was my birth home for a good four years, then replaced by Houston, Texas. This was nothing like the home I remember.

"Who's here?" I asked, pondering about the green car. I let myself out and carried my remaining two bags into the front room, careful not to stumble in the still-dark scene.

"Huh?" Mary asked.

"The car," I hinted. "Is anyone here?"

"Oh, no, sweetie!" she exclaimed, setting my bag on the foot of the stairs. "I bought it for you!"

"Is it new?" I asked, amazed she'd even had enough money to afford the house bill each month. This place was a mansion.

"Of course not. Sorry I couldn't find a better one, but the Nissan dealership in town was having the best deal and I just had to buy it for you. Besides, your birthday's coming up soon, right?"

"No," I corrected. I was slightly ashamed she didn't remember the day I came into this world. "The twenty-first of September. It just passed two weeks ago."

"Happy belated birthday!"

"You didn't need to do that," I sighed. "I was going to buy one myself. I have enough money."

She just shook her head. "Nonsense. I want you to be happy here."

Mary led me up the stairs with my bags. She pushed a door opened to reveal a crisp white desk and a queen bed covered in a swirled black comforter. She positioned my bag over by the walk-in closet and I followed with the last two bags.

"You like black, right?" she asked. Black was not my favorite color in the whole wide world, but it would have to do.

"Yeah," I lied. "I do."

"Great!"

Mary pushed past me and showed me the deluxe bathroom, larger than my new room, with a spacious shower, which was separate from the jumbo-jet bath tub, a fancy toilet, and ornate sink/vanity. Mary patted my back and told me she was so happy to see me again, happy that we're "housemates." This made me regret my decision of moving to Forks more, the sappy mom talk, but the jumbo bath tub quickly changed that.

I told Mary I would like to unpack and settle in and she left, a stupid grinned plastered on her face. I closed the bedroom door behind me and sighed. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was another weepy message from Elizabeth, telling me how much she missed me and cried over our "lost friendship, ruined by my asshole step-mother" with a carton of mint ice cream and our summer album we made last year when she took me on a cruise with her. Get a life, Lizzy. I'm not dead.

A chill zapped down my spine when I thought of the word _dead_, recalling the nightmare on the trip up here. It was so real that I almost felt the claws tearing into my soft flesh, the chilliness of the air, and the bright moon in the midnight sky.

I almost felt a chill in the air, like the temperature had dropped ten or fifteen degrees. I was probably imagining things.

I texted her back to keep my mind off the nightmare, sending her messages about how I miss her too, how I wish I was back in Houston. I really didn't miss her _all_ that much, but I did miss Houston, the clear blue skies and the sandy beaches down by the gulf. But now I had darkness, gloomy skies, and the endless pattering of rain. The weather had even started to affect me. I felt brought down, like the weight of the sky was on my shoulders.

I spent hours in my new room trying to make it feel like my old one, the thought of my new school on my mind. I sprinkled beach sand on the top shelf of my desk from a large glass Coke bottle, but it only looked like an accident. It appeared professional on my ocean blue desk. Forks High School only had 357 students, not including me. I set the bottle aside and tacked up pictures of Lizzy and I with our friend Gale.

Ah, Gale. He was the sort of person who changes the color of his hair as often as someone blinks, although Mr. Wallman, our old principal, despised the random colors. He never wore any colors other than white and beige, which did not look good together. But he let it slide when Gale's "mom" told him his natural hair color was bright green. Lizzy still had Mr. Wallman's phone number on a scrap of paper in her journal after she used it at the pay phone. Gale was also the kind to be stuck in the seventy's, blurting out random quotes from _Austin Powers_ during class.

But even our smiles couldn't brighten up the dark plum walls. The photos ended up paper-clipped together in the drawer of my nightstand. I would be the new girl from the south, expected to be tan, sporty, and have a Texan accent. They might even think me to be wearing Roper jeans and a long-sleeve plaid shirt and boots. Even rearranging the furniture doesn't seem to make me feel comfortable. Don't even get me started on the walk-in closet. My three bags of clothes only filled up a sixth of the entire closet space.

I walked to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. The mirror, unfortunately, accented my flaws: the zit on my hairline, the small birthmark on the far side of my face, the inch-long scar on my nose from a motorcycle accident.

The new change in surroundings had already made my skin paler, lighter, than usual. I wasn't beach-blonde tan, but then again, I wasn't ghostly white. The darker lighting made my silky auburn hair look damp, flat, and lifeless, but decent. Everything about me looked different in this new home.

It was like looking at one of my old pictures. You saw one version of me. In the mirror, another version. I wonder which side of me people really saw.

With my options depleted, I fell into my bed, which was surprisingly comfy. The ceiling fan spun around and around, sending me into a spiral and chilling me to the bone. If I want cold, I could just stick my head out the window into the freezing started-of-October weather. I closed my eyes to center myself and blindly groped at the walls until I found the switch.

"Allison!" Mary sung and knocked on my door. The room suddenly got a bit lighter, signaling seven in the morning. "Let's go to Ray's for breakfast, 'K?"

She grabbed my wrist and yanked me to my feet. I felt as though I'd taken ten shots of Red Bull, and then crashed from major exhaustion. Soon we were in her car and heading down the road. We reached town and parked in front of Ray's. Mary guided me into the diner, saying hello to several men and women who waved at us. Waved at her, I mean. No one seemed to recognize me. I've been here before, right?

A waitress seated us in a booth by the window and I felt the cold seeping in through the glass. She took our orders (both orange juice with three fluffy buttermilk pancakes) and waltzed off.

"Mary!" A man with russet skin ambled over to our table, a wide grinned slapped on his kind face. His jet black hair peeked out from the back of his baseball cap and was tied at the nape of his neck with a hair band. "Good to see you!"

"Harry!" she greeted, standing up to wrestle him into a hug. "Long time, no see!" Mary scooted over to make room for Harry and he leaned his elbows on the table. He set his gaze on me, probably just now noticing my existence.

"Who's this charming young lady?" he asked, studying my face. I wanted to draw my curtain of auburn hair across my face, shutting him out.

"My daughter," Mary beamed, her voice trembling with excitement. "The damn brightest girl in her class. Just moved here from the big city, you know. Houston." Harry nodded, paying attention to my eyes, maybe comparing Mary's green ones to my crystal blue, thinking how on earth I could be related to her, let alone be her daughter.

"Dad." A girl, maybe my age, wandered over to us, her hair long and black, her skin tan like Harry's. Two boys flanked her, their eyes almost a piercing black, skin like warm, melted cocoa. One looked younger, maybe fifteen. The other looked much older, like eighteen or nineteen. His hands were jammed into the pockets of his Washington Mariner's sweatshirt and he smiled at me, his straight teeth toothpaste-commercial white.

"Hey, Mary," the boys greeted, nodding in her direction. The older one's voice stood out, smooth as silk.

"There you were, Leah, Seth," Harry said. "Oh, hey, Embry. I'd like you to meet Mary's daughter, the smart one she always talks about." He gestured across the table to me and my fair-skinned face turned bright red. Mary talked about me?

The girl, Leah, said hello and sat down across from Harry. She instantly struck me as the kind of girl who didn't take shit from anyone. Her black hair was cut in a short bob and swayed as she moved. The boys, Seth and Embry, pulled up chairs and sat down at the end of the table. I thought of telling them that I could scoot over more, but the waitress came at the exact moment with our meal. She noticed the new arrivals.

"Well," she said, "two Rossi's, three Clearwater's, and a Call. What a bunch." She displayed the steaming food before us and took the family's order. I didn't know how starved I was until now.

I swiped one of the plates and jammed a pancake in my mouth as Mary conversed with Harry, completely shunning her meal. I grabbed the maple syrup and literally drowned the golden brown cakes, some of the sweet brown goo easing over the edge of my plate and onto the table.

"That's what we do," Leah and Seth said in unison when they noticed my nervous habit. The waitress soon returned with scrambled eggs, French toast, and a large bowl of fresh fruit.

Seth loaded his plate one at a time with slices of sugar-coated toast, eventually reaching six. He grasped the syrup bottle and unscrewed the cap, over-turning all its contents over his breakfast, leaving barely a teaspoon left.

"Seth!" Leah scolded. "Leave some for me!"

"Oh waa," he replied and sliced the stack of toast in half. "You and your needs. You've been saying you need to cut down on the calories, anyway." He happily munched on a soaked corner of toast as Leah seethed. Embry laughed.

Leah rolled her eyes and slid the small amount of syrup from the bottle onto her toast. It only formed a tiny pool on the surface. She took a spoon and dragged it across Seth's plate, gathering syrup. She then deposited the load onto her toast with a smirk.

"That's my syrup!" Seth exclaimed. He tried to recapture some that pools on the edge of her plate with his fork, but has a poor choice in weapon. The goo only slid through the prongs and Leah laughed at his expense.

"Besides," Leah said, "don't you know how to share?" She cut off a corner and stuck it in her mouth.

"No," Seth replied, stabbing her top slice with his fork. He dropped it on his pile. This caused Leah to reach over Embry's plate, her elbow knocking into the pitcher of orange juice. Embry circled his arms around his breakfast, trying to keep Leah's fork away. The fruity orange drink crashed like ocean waves over the table and flowed to the edges. I dodged the drink and soaked some up in my napkin.

"Alright, kids," Harry said, his voice booming. "I think we better leave before we break something. We've already ruined a breakfast."

"Seth," Leah immediately sneered, indicating that he was the cause of the trouble.

At this, Seth spliced a square of toast and jammed the entire thing into his wide mouth. Syrup slid down the corners of his mouth slowly, almost blending in with his skin tone. He licked it off hungrily with a smile. Leah wrinkled her nose in disgust and shoved past him, saying good-bye to me. Seth wiped his face and presented me with a cheeky grinned and I laughed. He looked like a chipmunk with his cheeks bulging out because of the toast.

Embry followed suit, stuffing the last slice of French toast from his plate into his mouth. He had trouble chewing, and swallowed small bites instead the whole thing at once.

"Nice to meet you, Allison," he said after his mouth was empty, and followed his friends out the door.


	4. Chapter 3: Hell On Earth

**_Again, this is a very short chapter, but they will get longer. Because of my band camp schedule, I'm only able to update every few days or so. Band is really killing me. Be glad you're not out there. But as I said before, the chapters will get much longer so they don't take like two or three minutes to read. So without further ado, enjoy this next chapter!

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Mary and I finished what wasn't covered in sticky juice and paid the bill. She dragged me around the town, which is only the size of maybe two and a half football fields, stopping at clothing stores.

"You should see Port Angles," Mary said. "It's at least ten times this place."

We spent hours running around to different shops and getting soaked from the rain, buying clothes for me to fill up my walk-in closed. Mary paced herself quickly, me falling behind often.

I picked out an outfit I would actually wear at a small vintage store: a park of clearance dark washed jeans with details on the back pockets and a 50%-off red sweater with buttons down the front. Compared to Mary's selections, it was runway material.

When the clock struck noon, Mary brought me back to Ray's for a juicy turkey sandwich and a side of salty potato chips and water.

As I ate the last bite of my sandwich, Mary readied herself to rocket out and continue our massive shopping spree. "Mar—Mom," I corrected, "can we go back to the house? I want to make sure I have everything for school tomorrow." That's what you get for arriving on a Sunday: extra time to prepare.

Mary seemed taken aback by this, appearing like she actually wanted to keep shopping in this weather. But she was used to the rain and humidity. I wasn't. I prefer drinking my water rather than inhaling it. "Oh, well, okay. Sure, that's fine."

We walked back to her car, shopping bags bouncing against our legs with each step. Mary drove out of the small town and into familiar suburbs. We reached the house, where Mary left me to return to my new room and settle down.

Tossing my bags in a corner, I sprung onto the bed, feeling the comforter rub against my cheek. By now, my father has probably auctioned off all my furniture at Vikki's request.

Forks wasn't like Houston, I concluded. No familiar room, no large shopping centers close to home, no friends, and, most importantly, no sunlight. I was like a plant; I needed sun to survive. I predicted my expiration date in maybe a week or so. When I looked into the clouds through my window, I thought that Forks was the odd one out.

Claws dug deeper into my arms, sending excruciating pain zapping up my shoulders, flowing through my whole body. The figure cackled at my suffering. The moon's glow was the same color as her skin, ghostly pale. Stars twinkled in the sky like small Christmas tree lights hung over branches.

Thick crimson blood trickled from my wounds and pools in my cupped hands, which dangled at my sides. My arms were soon slathered in the red liquid. I grew weary, my head spinning like a never ending top. My breathing faltered and—

"Allison!"

I jolted up, my body taut like a bow. Mary leaned over my bed; her hands were perched on her knees. I swallowed several times, but I couldn't get down the terrible taste in my mouth.

"Goodness," Mary said, "you scared me with all that screaming! It sounded like you were dying up here!"

_Good guess, Mary!_ I thought, but chose not to tell her I _was_ dying. In my dreams, and because of my loss of my sunny home, whether it be Italy or Texas.

"You need to get dressed right now or you won't have time to get to school," Mary explained, moving to the door and closing it behind her. I collected myself, my arms still tingling from the dream-wounds.

I undressed and pulled the half-price sweater over my head, its fabric warming my arms. The dark-washed jeans looked stunning on me, if I do say so myself. Mary didn't choose them. Tying the laces of my tennis shoes and yanking on my jacket, I clomped down the stairs to the kitchen, where Mary had my breakfast ready.

But I had no time for a sit-down meal, so I said good-bye to her and snagged a granola bar from her cupboard. She called good luck to me and I smirked as the door shut behind me. Luck was the one thing that never favored me.

The driveway was slick from the rain and ice formed from the almost freezing temperatures. My feet clumsily danced on the slick ice until I steadied myself by placing a hand on the green car. My new car.

The keys were sitting in the driver's seat and I scolded Mary internally for leaving them there in plain view. But nevertheless, I looked over my shoulder as I backed out and proceeded down the road to my first day of gloomy hell.


	5. Chapter 4: First Sight

_**So yay! I have enough time to post the fourth chapter! This one is a little long, so stick with me here. It will get better, I promise you. I already had one of my friends-you know who you are:)-check over it and she said it was really good, so I hope that's what you think of it when it ends! And, since I haven't done this since the prologue, here's a disclaimer! Reviews are nice and hope you enjoy!**_

**Disclaimer: Twilight fully belongs to Mrs. Stephanie Meyer and not me, though I wish it did . . . I'm merely taking the characters and making my own plot with it!

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I almost drove past the high school. If the large parking lot filled with teenagers and the school's marquee hadn't existed, I would've missed it. Forks High School was a poor excuse for a school, made of ugly slabs of maroon bricks cemented together.

I found an empty spot in the lot (I thought it said 'RESTRICTED') without running over anyone (but that football jock was asking for it). Mary said to find the building labeled 'FRONT OFFICE' and go in. Well there it was. I shrugged together what was left of me and my conscience and headed in.

The front office was a mini jungle, literally dripping with vegetation. It was warmer than it was outside, but still just as humid. A stout woman with a beehive up do typed mechanically at a keyboard, not noticing my arrival. I coughed loudly and obnoxiously to catch her attention.

"Oh, hello, dear!" she exclaimed, tearing her gaze from the glowing monitor. She stood up and leaned against the counter. "What can I do for you?"

_Die, please. _"I'm new here," I said sweetly, putting my innocent act. The woman nodded and asked for my name. She thumbed through a stood-up file folder and pulled out a stack of colored paper.

"Your schedule." White paper. "Slips for the teachers to sign." Eight stripped of purple. "A map." Lime green. "Bell schedule." Bright yellow. "And an admit slip." Baby blue. "Okay dearie. You're all set! First period just started...ten minutes ago! Hope you enjoy yourself! After school lets out, make sure to come back and return that admit slip!"

She fell back to her computer and I slashed my way through the fresh jungle office with an armful of papers, into the hallway. I glanced at my schedule. First hour was Physics, and on the other side of the massive building. My tennis shoes squeaked with each stepped, echoing in the hallway, and it made me antsy. I studied the map and schedule in my hands, hoping I wouldn't have to keep it pressed under my nose the entire day.

After what seemed like miles of walking, I stopped in front of the correct room. I peeked in, as the door was propped open. A woman with wiry gray hair was checking roll call, yelling out names to the body of students while pacing across the room with a clipboard.

"Rossi, Allison," she called and her tone was uneasy as she didn't recognize the name.

"Here," I squeaked from the doorway and walked in. I handed the woman a purple slip and the admit from the sloppy stack in my arms. She took and signed both slips, keeping the purple one and handing me the blue one. Then she pointed to a table on the right side of the room. I nearly tripped over my own feet and fumbled the slip into my pocket, all while trying to keep the paper steady.

The room was in tables instead of individual desks. The boy who sat at my table was staring out the window, unlike all the gawking students in the room. Even my teacher was studying me with curiosity. The boy watched the clouds roll by, the walls of the cage that kept out the golden sun. His long, pale fingers drummed a pencil in equal rhythm on the table like a metronome.

I finally gained feeling in my legs again and realized I still stood at the front of the room, all eyes on me. My eyes were drawn to the table, but I was afraid to move forward, like it was going to bite me. _Move, idiot,_ I thought, and pushed my legs forward. The chair scraped across the floor with a nails-on-chalk-board sound as I pulled it out and I winced. I dropped my bag to the floor and sat. The teacher, whom I figured was Mrs. Minora from the name on the board, promptly turned and finished the roll call before beginning the lesson.

It felt unnerving sitting next to this boy, like there was an electric field around him, keeping me at a distance. I couldn't even move my eyes to look at him as we took notes on chapter eight in our textbook. He sat on the edge of his seat, closer to the window than to me. I couldn't even see his face when I dared to look. All I saw was a curly cloud of honey blond hair. It was like the table was hotwired. Whenever I rested my arm on its surface, it shocked me almost, giving me a tingling sensation, like when you hit the right spot on your elbow and laugh instead of cry. I felt like crying, though.

Eventually the bell rang. It startled me and my arm brushed against my pencil bag, which had been between the boy and me. My pens and pencils scattered across the table top and the floor. Some ended up on the boy's side of the table.

He shifted them over to me with the stiff brush of his hand before departing rather quickly. I found myself staring after him with a look of curiosity. The simultaneous scraping of chairs pulled me from my haze and I packed my things.

I moved onto Photography in building four. It was a small room with clothes lines hanging from the walls and Polaroid snap shots clipped to it by clothes pins. The teacher, Mr. Stewart, was friendly enough, but I swear I saw him grimace as soon as I turned away to find my seat. As I sat down, a girl with thick dark hair slid into the seat in front of me. She twisted around to glance at me.

"Are you new here or something?" she asked with a cock of her eyebrow.

"Yeah. I'm new," I mumbled. I shifted between my schedule and the other papers to keep my hands busy and kicked my bag under my desk.

"That's cool. I'm Melissa," she introduced. I glanced up at her. Her hair was parted down the middle, an equal amount on each side of her head. Her skin was pure and smooth and cocoa like. Her eyes were surrounded with black eyeliner; they were an olive green with an orangish tinge circling her pupils.

"I'm Allison," I replied, setting down the papers.

"I've always wanted my name to be Allison," she mentioned, laughing. "Melissa's so boring."

I shrugged. Other students began filing into the room and taking seats.

"So what's your next class?" she asked. Melissa shocked me by grabbing the papers off my desk and shuffling through them until she found my schedule. She glanced over the subjects and turned back to me. "Hey, we have Gym together next. Awesome."

Then she turned back around as Mr. Stewart closed the door with a slam. I thought it would never end. I leaned my chin on my hand the entire time as he got off track while trying to talk to us about centering our subject when taking a picture. We ended up talking about his trip to Cairo, Egypt and he showed us the slideshow he kept on his laptop. I yawned and watched the clock until the bell sounded.

As second hour ended, Melissa walked me to the gym.

A woman donning an impressive pair of sweats stood outside a small office, checking off girls on the role call list and stopped me, her mind labeling me unfamiliar. She finally found my name on the list and checked me off with a grunt. She searched in the bowels of her office, and then reappeared with a pair of faded gym shorts and gray shirt, probably from the lost and found. She shoved them in my arms, along with a locker combination written on a scrap of paper and a dented silver lock.

The coach grunted once more and pointed down the hall to a wooden door. I followed a gaggle of girls as they laughed and entered the girls' locker room, having lost Melissa in the hall.

On immediate entrance, I broke into a small sweat. Using my sleeve to wipe it from my forehead, I spotted a table crowded with curling and straightening irons, all plugged into the same mega-outlet. It also smelled like a mixture of scents: freesia, vanilla, cinnamon, apple, etc. I breathed it in and nearly choked from the cloud of sprays and perfumes.

The locker room was divided into three sections of lockers. The first section, located across from the entrance, was packed with girls, all struggling to change, let alone breathe or move. The second section was equally as packed, roll-on deodorant smeared on the floor. In disgust, I moved to the last section, which barely had anyone in it. Checking my locker number again, I almost jumped for joy.

My locker was in the third section.

After locating my locker, I pulled off my jacket and sweater. Thank goodness I was already used to changing in front of people, or it would've been uncomfortable. I yanked on the smelly gym shirt and hoped I could swap it out for one less . . . dirty.

"Hey, Allison."

With the shirt in the process of going over my head, my arms sticking straight up, I turned around. Someone yanked the shirt over my face and it fit loosely around my torso. I glanced down, examining the shirt and the mascot, the Gladiator.

"Thanks," I said, then looked up to see Melissa, staring at her manicure. She had her black hair twirled into a braided ponytail. Instead of the gray Gladiator ensemble, she wore a washed out My Chemical Romance T-shirt with purple mesh shorts. She chomped on a wad of gum as she looked me up and down, ignoring her manicure.

"So are you ready for running?" she asked.

"Running?"

"Yep. We run once a week," she explained. "Always on Mondays." The bell rang and the girls slowly filtered to the doors. We started in with the crowd when she stopped me. "Necklace."

I glanced down and my hand automatically went to my neck. I fingered my thin silver chain and slipped the clasp apart. "Thanks." I ran back to my locker and fumbled with the combination.

I turned back and Melissa was at a locker nearby, glancing in a small mirror taped to the door. She applied liquid eyeliner to her lids. Melissa's locker was the product of a paint disaster: lime green splattered the left wall, hot pink on the right, neon purple showing off on the back wall. Her gym bag was a blinding yellow, almost over flowing with tubes of lipstick, eyeliner, compact mirrors, and containers of blush with worn out brushes.

Melissa stepped back, admiring her reflection in the mirror, and slammed it shut. She started off to the door where other girls were heading and I caught up.

"Why are you wearing makeup when we're going to run?" I asked. I could never image myself running with mascara streaming down my face along with sweat.

"Water proof," she explained.

We lined up in the hall according to last name; and Melissa parted ways with me to take her assigned spot with the A's, as her last name was Anderson. The coach stormed down the hall in front of us, barking orders. It was hard to distinguish what on earth she was saying, but everyone else seemed to understand and rushed toward the doors to the outside world.

I blended in with my other classmates and Melissa caught up with me. When the doors budged opened, I was nearly thrown backward by major gusts of frozen wind. _We had to run in this kind of weather?_ I shook this off as the coach started her timer and sprinted after Melissa, who currently took the lead.

My legs were red, goose bumps tingling on my bare flesh. My knees were a nice shade of purple and knocked in sync with my chattering teeth. I rubbed my hands across my arms, hoping to warm them. I was the only past the finish line at a time of 6:25. The coach demanded that I go inside to stretch and I couldn't be happier. The hallway was toasty warm from the curling irons' heat seeping through the walls and I sighed. Melissa busted through the double doors with a few other girls, bringing icy air in with them.

"God," she panted upon entrance, "you can run fast!"

She collapsed on the tile and straightened out her legs reaching for her toes. I plopped down next to her and worked out the kinks in my arms. I stretched my arm behind me and my elbow made a popping sound.

"No, I can't," I responded. "Everyone else is just really slow."

"Your time was under six and a half minutes. How is that not fast?"

I couldn't think of any point to argue, so I shrugged and kept my trap shut until the coach barged in and allowed us to dress.

Melissa invited me to sit with her at lunch after Gym, and I immediately accepted, not wanting to sit alone on the first day and look obvious. She led me to a table on the fringe of the cafeteria that was surrounded by several chairs and I took one. My brown paper bag contained a peanut butter sandwich, from which I tiredly ripped the crust as more students entered in packs. A girl with bouncy blonde ringlets greeted Melissa cheerily and introduced herself as Heather Jackson as she pulled out a seat next to me. She was pretty, I had to admit. Her lips were thin and coated in a juicy pink gloss that glinted in the light. Her eyes were a bright crystal blue that contrasted with her light creamy skin. She chatted along easily with Melissa, though they appeared total opposites.

A muscular boy with shaggy chestnut locks nodded to me and took a seat by Melissa. He looked me up and down as I munched awkwardly on my sandwich, probably wondering who the heck I was. Melissa introduced me and I smiled meekly. He introduced himself as Conner Manning. He grinned stupidly and his can of soda slipped from his grip. When he bent down to retrieve it, I glanced the other way, studying my atmosphere. The conversations around me buzzed in my ears like thousands of yellow-striped bees. My eyes wandered to random tables, checking out the students.

There were some I recognized from my first two classes, and some I didn't. But one specifically caught my eye.

The blonde-haired boy fell under my gaze, sitting at a table by the window with four other students. But something about the five forced them to stand out from the average student body: they were all heart-breakingly gorgeous. Why didn't I notice this about the boy in Physics?

A stunning girl with brown hair sat by a handsome boy with windswept bronze hair; her head leaned on his shoulder lovingly. The boy from Physics was perfect in every way, with his coiled honey-blonde hair and spotless complexion. A supermodel blond with plump pink lips held the hand of an athletic boy with chocolate brown hair. They all looked alike, but somehow prominently different. They were also the most exquisite people I'd ever seen.

"Who are they?" I asked Melissa, gesturing to the beautiful five. She swallowed her mouthful of salad and directed her spork in their direction.

"The Cullens," she presented businesslike as soon as her mouth was clear. She formed a circle around the muscular one with the grin plastered to his face. "That one's Emmett."

"Rosalie." She was the attractive blonde who could be a model. "And Jasper." He was the nerve-wracking one from my Physics class.

"Edward. He's gorgeous, of course." The bronze-haired boy.

"And Isabella. Bella, for short. That's what everyone calls her." Bella was the brunette that was flawless; she could've popped out of a fairy tale for all I know.

"They're all together, together," Conner piped up, overhearing our conversation, and leaned across the table. "Couple wise, like Emmett and Rosalie."

"And Edward and Bella," Heather added and nodded. "And they live together. It's so weird."

"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked confused with another look at them. "They don't look related at all."

"Oh, they're not related. Dr. Cullen's really young. He's like in his early thirties or something. Every one of them is adopted, except for the Hales, Jasper and Rosalie. They're the only ones that are brother and sister, twins actually. They're the blond ones; they're foster children." Heather popped an orange slice in her mouth.

I took a second look at the pair. They were both deathly pale and seemed to emanate beauty. Their hair was precisely the same shade of gold, Jasper's curly and Rosalie's long and pencil straight. Rosalie locked eyes with me and I whipped back around.

"They look a little too old to be foster children, don't they?"

Conner wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spoke. "They are now. They're both eighteen, but they're been with Mrs. Cullen since they were seven or eight. She's their aunt or something."

"That's really nice," I said, wanting to look back at the group of teens, but afraid of Rosalie's death glare. I hadn't even said a word to her, yet she appeared like she wanted to kill me. "I can't believe they'd take care of so many kids, considering how young they are and everything."

"I know, right?" Heather gushed. She'd finished off her orange and was picking parts of the peel from underneath her French tips. She and Melissa started up a conversation that immediately left Conner and me out; it was about shopping. I could not talk about shopping and survive. Conner looked around, hinting that he didn't want a conversation.

Throughout the conversation, I glanced subtly over my shoulder at the five. Rosalie kept her eyes on Emmett instead of me, and I was thankful. Bella glanced over once but snapped her gaze back to Edward. Jasper didn't dare look anywhere except his book. They all were preoccupied with something and didn't eat from the trays in front of them.

"Have they always lived here?" I questioned.

"No," Melissa said. Conner and Heather were talking now. Actually, it was Conner doing all the talking; Heather sat there, a pink glow creeping on her cheeks and smiling and nodding. "They just moved here about two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I nodded and sipped the last of my water. They were new, but definitely not as new as I was. I looked swiftly at them once more. They were all so beautiful. It was odd how their looks were perfect, but they were outsiders, obviously not accepted within a clique in the school.

Jasper flipped a page in his book; Rosalie fiddled with her nails; Emmett sat back and watched the cafeteria full of students; Edward talked with Bella, their heads down. The sound in the room faded away subtly as I watched them.

After a few minutes, the brawny one, Emmett stood. He was tall, no doubt over six feet. Like a reversed domino effect, the rest of them stood. Rosalie and Bella flitted to the trash can, each bearing two full lunch trays. Jasper followed close behind them with his own tray. The five of them left the cafeteria together.

The bell dinged soon after, dismissing us to our fifth period. It turned out that Conner had World History with me. We walked together after parting from Heather and Melissa. Conner was into sports; I could tell that much from how much he knew about baseball and football. He was friendly, but not over friendly, and was animate while he talked.

When we reached the classroom, Conner went to sit at a desk right by the door. He dug through his bag for a pencil and I hoped the teacher would put me by him. It would be comforting to sit beside someone I knew, even if I only knew his name and that he liked sports. I walked over to who I supposed to be the teacher. He was middle aged with a chunk of graying hair covering most of a massive bald spot.

"Hello," I said. He looked up, revealing his name card: Mr. Murphy.

"Oh, hello," he replied, somewhat cheerfully. His eyes were the same pale color as his hair, but they were perky. "Are you the new student?"

I nodded and handed him my admit slip and a strip of purple paper. He kept the purple slip and initialed my admit slip, handing it back to me. He directed me to the back row. Conner shot a glance at me sadly and I returned the expression.

The door opened and a few girls wandered in, giving me weird glances and giggling with their heads down. Students filtered into the room in small clumps, all of them scattering around the room to desks. Chipping at my nails in my lap, I briefly remembered Texas. It was the last mani I got there.

The room suddenly felt still.

I glanced up. _He _was standing there. Jasper Hale stood at the doorway. He immediately spotted me and froze. He blinked and sat down in a seat at the front of the room. But it was different; his eyes were a dark brown, almost black. And the air felt cloudy and humid, for some reason, as if someone had opened all the windows in the room. But there were no windows.

Fourth hour ended quickly to my pleasure. It was uncomfortable in that room, although History was one of my best subjects. Conner caught me on the way out.

"Hey, do you need help finding your last class?" he asked. We stood directly in the middle of the flow of students, but no one complained. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jasper exit the room and I cringed.

"Nope," I said nervously, "I'm fine. Thanks, though."

"Oh, okay. That's cool."

We stood there for a few moments before I said over the rush of students, "I need to get to class."

"Right," Conner said. "I'll see you later." With a small smile, he disappeared into the crowd. I turned on my heel to walk down the hall and something caught my eye. Jasper was standing on the threshold of the History room, studying me with curious eyes. I ducked my head down and started walking.

My last hour was Language Arts, which was not my forte. We were reading _Romeo and Juliet_ currently. I sniffed as my teacher, Mrs. Simon, dropped the book on my desk. My brother always read _Romeo and Juliet_, even though the ending was depressing and left him in a mood for days. Then he'd pick it up in a month or so and read it. But he wasn't here to read it anymore. I winced at the memory and pushed it to the back of my mind.

I was relieved when the last bell dismissed us and I high tailed it out to the parking lot. The dark colored automobiles formed a giant sea of metal under the charcoal sky. I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked past numerous cars to the main office. As soon as I walked into the warm, toasty office, I suddenly decided that the freezing cold temperatures outside were better. Jasper Hale stood with his back to me, straightening papers at the main desk.

The door closed softly behind me and his back stiffened, though he continued to shuffle papers. He muttered something under his breath to the receptionist and brushed past me without making eye contact.

The receptionist looked up and smiled. "How did your first day go, dear?"

I walked up to the desk and handed her the signed slip. "Fine." My throat was dry and rough.

When I got to my green car, I cranked the heater to full blast and sat back. _Some first day_, I thought as I pulled out and headed back to Mary's house.


	6. Chapter 5: If Looks Could Kill

_**Okay, so I finally have time to post another chapter! Yay! But sadly, I have band camp again today, so there's a good chance I won't be able to post anything but this for another few days. School's starting soon, so that will be crap and I won't have any time to do anything! DX Oh well. Enough of my griping. I'll let you read this next chapter and see what you think. They're starting to get a little longer, so please bear with me! Enjoy!**_

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The next day was better, if that was possible . . . and worse.

It was better because Mary served me breakfast before school. It was easier because I was already getting used to the routine of my schedule after only a day. Melissa sat by me in Photography and walked with me to Gym and lunch; Conner talked to me consistently before our History hour; even though Heather didn't share classes with me, she talked to me as much as possible during our lunch period. It was like treading water instead of drowning terribly.

It was worse because I was unbearably exhausted; I couldn't sleep with the nighttime rain pounding on the roof of Mary's house. It was terrible because I had the same nightmare again. It was horrible because I flubbed an answer during my last class. It was miserable because I tripped while running the mile, scraped my knee and took down six other girls with me.

It was in between because Jasper Hale wasn't in school at all.

All morning I was dreading lunch, mostly because our tables were a spitting distance apart. Part of me believed this was just some stupid obsession with a guy that would never talk to me, and that it would soon pass. It was a phase.

Melissa and I walked into the cafeteria. My eyes swept the room for him, but Melissa tapped my shoulder and dragged me to our table for lunch. His four siblings were sitting together at the same exact table, only feet away, and he was not with them.

I plopped down by Conner and started in on my meal while they talked. Their chatter was easy to follow and I caught ideas about going to the beach. But while I listened, I was uncomfortable and shifted in my seat constantly. I looked over my shoulder at the doors to the cafeteria, waiting for the moment he'd make his big entrance, but he never showed.

I walked to History with more confidence, Conner by my side. I almost hoped Jasper wouldn't show. I held my breath when we walked in, but he wasn't there. I let my breath go and went to my seat. Conner tagged along and sat in the seat in front of me. His favorite topic was sports and I was completely lost as words tumbled from his mouth. Thankfully the bell rang and he retreated to his seat. He flashed me a smile from where he sat across the room and I returned it.

I was relieved that I wouldn't have to be staring at the back of Jasper's curly head from a few rows back, seeing that he was absent. I felt better, like I'd almost recovered from the stomach flu.

When the school day was finally over, and my face wasn't as warm from giving the wrong answer in Language, I shrugged my backpack onto my shoulder and maneuvered my way into the pack parking lot. I thumbed through my bag to check if everything was there before cranking the car's engine.

Looking over my shoulder, I backed carefully into the line of cars that were waiting to leave the parking lot. I sighed impatiently and glanced out the window. Three of the Cullens and the single Hale twin were loading into a car. It was sleek, black and foreign-looking. Their clothes caught my eye as well. Now that I looked, they dressed exceptionally well; their clothes were simple but hinted at designer origins. It seemed a little excessive for them to have both money and good looks, but sometimes fate favored some people.

They noted my car as I passed them, though they didn't stare at any other cars. I kept my eyes forward nervously and finally exited the parking lot in one piece.

When I got home, I dumped my bag on the kitchen table and poured a glass of orange juice. I grimaced at the taste after the first sip and checked the expiration date. It was a few months past, and I poured my glass and the carton down the sink, my nose wrinkled.

I forced down the bad taste and lugged my bag upstairs to start my homework. I kicked off my shoes and pulled my hair up, turning on my dad's old laptop. It was an HP in the worst condition, shutting off randomly and constantly losing internet connection. The screen flickered every five seconds and it was missing more than a few keys.

For the first time after moving, I checked my email. Four new messages waited in my inbox.

"Allison," my dad wrote . . .

_Write me as soon as you get in, kiddo! Was your flight good? Is it raining all the time like your mother tells me it does? I miss you a lot already. Vikki threw out my old baseball mitt when I was at work today. Can you believe that? We used to play catch with that thing in the front yard all the time when you were younger. Dad._

I chuckled to myself and went to the next one. It was sent six minutes after the first one.

"Allison," he wrote . . .

_Hey, I forgot to tell you, Vikki says hi. I mean, she didn't actually tell me to tell you, but I thought you'd feel better if you knew she thought of you. Oops, that was the wrong thing to say. Dad._

Yeah, I'd feel much better knowing Vikki, of all people, wanted to tell me hi. Not really. I went to the third one. It was an ad for one of my favorite clothing stores that only expanded in Texas, so I deleted that one. I clicked on the last one; it was from last night.

"Allison," he wrote . . .

_Is your computer broken or something? Or are you just lazy? :D _

I rolled my eyes and started a reply back.

_Dad,_

_ No, I'm not lazy. Sheesh. Everything's great here. It's obviously raining bucketfuls. And my computer's not broken. I just haven't had time to write, considering school and everything. Speaking of school, it's not bad. I've got some friends I sit by at lunch. Mary bought me a car, can you believe that? No offense, but Vikki would never lend me more than ten dollars. Again, no offense. The car's really nice, it's green. My favorite color. It blends in with the trees. I love it, and I love you too. I miss you. I'll write as soon as you reply. Try and get that mitt back, will you? That one was my favorite. Love you._

_ Allison_

As soon as the message sent, I closed out of my e-mail and picked up _Romeo and Juliet_. The class had already gone through five chapters of the book and I needed to catch up; that was what Mary found me doing when she came home.

"Allison?" she called when she slammed the door behind her, I closed my book and leaned over the banister. She carried two plastic bags in her hands. The smell of Chinese food wafted upstairs and my mouth watered.

"Hey, Mom." I came down the stairs and took one of the bags from her. We walked into the kitchen and set the bags down on the island. She brushed her hair out of her eyes as she dug silverware from the drawer. She had such long hair; I'd thought she'd get tired of seeing so much of it every day, and not just at work. She'd come home the last few summers smelling like hair spray and shampoo and sunflowers; it was the same now. "How was work?"

She shrugged and placed the utensils on the table along with two placemats. "Same old, same old. Lots of hair, everywhere." She chuckled at her little rhyme as I pulled cardboard boxes of rice and chicken from the bags. She pulled two plates down and set them on the counter

We ate in silence for a few minutes, the silent buzz of the TV on mute in the background. My ring clinked against my glass as I took a sip of water. Mary chewed a bit of chicken, swallowed, and cleared her throat.

"So, how do you like going to school here? Have you made any friends?" She stirred her rice with a spoon and looked up at me.

"I have a few classes with a girl named Melissa, she's pretty nice. There's this boy, Conner, who has History with me. And there's another girl named Heather. She doesn't have classes with me, but we all sit together at lunch. She's really . . . peppy." There was no other word for her.

"That must be Heather Jackson. She's the only Heather in Forks that I know of," Mary commented. "Wonderful girl—nice family. Her mom comes in often to get her hair cut and sometimes she brings Heather along for a trim. Her dad owns the supermarket in the square."

I nodded and spliced a chuck of chicken with my fork. "Do you know the Cullen family?" I asked, unsure, after a few minutes.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure do. Dr. Cullen's a swell man," she said, beaming.

"Their . . . the kids . . . are a little different. They don't really fit in at all at school."

She waved a hand at me and she looked a little irritated.

"People," she muttered. "Dr. Cullen is the best surgeon I've ever seen who could probably work anywhere he wanted and make ten times the salary he makes here. But we're grateful to have him. He's a real asset to the town and all of his kids are so well behaved and polite. My salon is across the street from the local police station, and at first, I thought I'd be seeing them go in and out of that place quite often. But I haven't seen hide or hair of them sitting in the back of one of those police cruisers. They stick together the way a family should, going on camping trips every other weekend. Just because they're practically new here, people have something new to gossip about."

With that, she looked at me and shuffled off to the kitchen. That was the longest I'd ever heard her talk. I heard a clank as she loaded the plate into the dishwasher and automatically stood up.

"They seem nice enough to me," I said as I slid my plate into the dishwasher and started it up. "I just noticed they keep to themselves. They're all very . . . attractive." I cleaned the table and threw away the empty boxes.

Mary laughed. "You should see the doctor. It's a good thing he's married. A lot of the nurses have a hard time focusing on their work with him around." The tone of her voice showed me she didn't care about being single, but, sometimes, I knew she did.

I wiped the countertops with a wet rag and threw it in the sink, heading upstairs with an early good night to Mary. I closed the bathroom door behind me as I prepared to take a shower. That night was quiet, if you exclude the small glimpses of a starry night and a pretty girl in my dreams.

The next few weeks were uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes and didn't need my schedule anymore. I was getting better in Gym, beating Melissa in basketball five games in a row. I was also getting more popular with the people around me; they'd ask me about homework while some just wanted to talk. I was beginning to feel like I belonged.

Then Jasper showed up. He had actually showed up a week earlier, but had been keeping his distance from me. He disappeared from time to time and left Physics or History to go to the nurse. Occasionally, his siblings wouldn't appear, but they'd arrive like nothing had ever happened.

Every day, I'd dread lunch. I'd sit at our table and watch for him to enter with his siblings. On the off chance he didn't come in with them, I could relax and listen to everyone's conversations. It centered mostly around the Winter Formal coming up, and Conner's annual winter trip to the La Push Ocean Park. I was the first person he invited; of course I agreed, but more out of politeness than desire. It would be odd to see a beach cold and wet instead of scorching and dry.

And I was also becoming more comfortable with my classes; I'd been getting better grades in History and was working on a landscape project in Photography. Physics was a pain still, but if Jasper didn't show up then, it promised me he wouldn't show up in History. For all I knew, he'd dropped out of school. His absence kept my mind wondering.

Each weekend was the same: write a few cheerful and updating e-mails to Dad, clean the house, do homework, and work on my landscape. I drove to the library in town every Saturday and ended up spending hours in the fiction section. The first day there I got a library card and met Mrs. Burns, the librarian, and her assistant, Xavier. A pile of books slowly grew in the corner of my room.

The weather was always that same every weekend, as well as every day. It was rain. Most of the time it fell in mist, but other times it was a real thunderstorm. Sometimes I could sleep through most weather, so it didn't bother me much.

Then things took a turn for the worst. Jasper came back the next Monday.

Where had he gone in his extensive absence? Why did he leave in the first place? I wasn't as concerned about his siblings as much as I was about him. His family left once a month maybe . . . not that I was paying attention.

Questions swam laps through my mind as I turned the corner into the school's parking lot.

The morning was cold. The high was supposed to be around thirty or so. The clouds were gray and puffy, small flakes of white trickling down from them and creating a soft blanket of snow across the town. When I had gotten out to my car before school, it was covered in snow, as we only have a single car garage; that was where Mary put her car in the night. I'd spent about twenty good minutes scraping off snow and my hands were so cold, they burned.

I found a vacant spot and parked, jamming the keys into my pocket and unbuckling my seatbelt. When my hand was on the door handle, something thudded against the windshield and I jumped. A yelp crawled up my throat and escaped through my lips.

Conner sprinted toward my car in a full coat and gloves and bent over. I stepped put to see what had happened. He stood back up, a wet football cradled in his arms, and checked my windshield for any cracks.

"I-I'm so sorry," he stammered. I got the hint that his speech wasn't impaired because of just the freezing temperatures. "M-Michael just made the worst pass. Sorry."

"It's okay," I assured him. "At least my window didn't break."

I looked back at the window and Conner rocked back and forth on his heels, glancing at the dark charcoal clouds and fresh white forest behind the lot.

"So," he started suddenly. "There's-"

"Get your ass back up here, Conner!" a boy, probably Michael, shouted through cupped hands about twenty yards away. Other boys joined in, yelling at a defenseless Conner.

Conner whipped his head back and I swear he gave his buddies the finger. His fingers clenched around the football and he yanked up the zipper on his coat.

"I have to go," he gritted through his teeth. "I'll talk to you at lunch, okay?"

He jogged back to his posse and launched the football at one boy. I shook my head, hoping to erase that scene. My teeth clacked together slightly from the temperature and I walked along the sidewalk. I glanced out at the parking lot, filled with students hurling snowballs at each other. Melissa and Heather were pelting snow at each other. Melissa threw one directly in Heather's face; Heather jumped back, swatting at her face while Melissa nearly collapsed from laughing so hard.

I felt the urge to join them, so I shuffled in their direction. Then I stopped.

A silver car, covered in a light blanket of melting snow, passed in front of me. I glanced up in time to see four faces staring back at me. My ears grew hot and I instantly turned around. My curiosity begged me to peek at the car. As if to help myself to become invisible, I yanked the hood of my jacket over my head, wanting to crawl into a hole right then.

Through the growl of engines, simultaneous doors slammed behind me and I flinched. It could've been anyone getting out of their car, but I was sure it was them. I permitted myself once glance at them as I walked away. I awkwardly turned my head; none of them were looking in my direction.

One corner of my mouth lifted up in a small smile. Emmett was pelting snow at Edward, who laughed. It seemed to echo beautifully throughout the parking lot. Jasper leaned against the trunk of a sleek black car and watched, his smile matching mine. Bella and Rosalie stood nearby wrapped in designer coats in front of the silver car I saw only minutes before. Emmett flung a fistful of snow at the girls and they cringed as the ice touched their faces.

They were enjoying the snowy day, just like Melissa and Heather were, just like Conner was as he played a quick game of touch football with his friends. But they looked more like a painting than the rest of us, like the perfect winter scene.

But, through the laughing and the snow, there was something different about each of them. I examined them individually, Jasper especially. Rosalie had gotten highlights maybe, considering her hair was lighter and seemed to gleam in the dull light. Emmett and Edward were in a better mood than I'd seen them in earlier; they smiled more today than they had anytime else I'd seen them. Bella was wearing a makeup possibly; her skin was a light and creamy ivory. The purple circles under Jasper's eyes seemed less noticeable now, but there was something more that came from all of them. It didn't come to me.

Then my face was covered in cold, wet stuff that was followed by girlish laughing.

I shuddered as I brushed the snow from my eyes. Heather and Melissa were doubled over laughing at my reaction. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, ha ha. Very funny. Throw snow at the unobservant girl, why don't you?"

"Okay!" Heather laughed. She and Melissa flung another round of snow at me. I held my arms up as the snow pelted my arms and melted through my jacket.

"Enough, guys!" I shouted. "I'm soaking wet."

The firing ceased and I walked up to join them. Heather appeared to be toying with her hoop earring, but I realized she was looking over her shoulder. She glanced back at me and leaned in.

"Jasper Hale is staring at you," she whispered. At that Melissa leaned in as well.

"He's just looking at you," she added.

"Does he look mad or anything?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Why would he be mad?" Heather asked, confused by my question.

"I don't think he likes me that much," I admitted. My stomach was queasy again, but during the time I watched the Cullens in the snow, it felt giddy, like filled with butterflies.

"The Cullens don't like anybody . . . well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them."

"He's still staring at you," Melissa repeated.

"Stop looking at him!" I hissed.

She chuckled quietly to herself, but I think she looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that she did.

The bell rang. It sounded faint outside, but everyone who was left in the parking lot moved toward the doors. I immediately took off for the school without a good bye to my friends. They'd have all the time at lunch to ask me about it.

There were footsteps padding behind me and my heart raced, but it ended up being a boy from my Gym period. He walked past me without a glance. I reached the main glass doors, hoping Jasper wasn't directly behind me.

Then it hit me like a ten-ton brick and I took a step back to see the entire baby blue sign taped to the door. Glitter covered the edges, most likely the work of the sophomores in Student Council. I swallowed heavily, trying to push down the newly formed lump in my throat.

WINTER FORMAL! COME ON, COME ALL! DECEMBER 10TH AT 7 PM. BRING A DATE! DON'T MISS IT!

Oh, shit. I ducked my head and took a deep breath, trying to walk past the sign without looking at it again. But I studied it once more. I'd never liked dances, starting in my freshman year. In Houston, we'd always have small dances or parties at someone's house, and I'd tell my friends I was busy that night or something to get me out of going. But I wasn't. No one knew the truth behind my excuses, not even Mary or my father. I'd "forget" to tell them about the dance or the party and stay home with a book or a movie.

My brother was twenty-one when he was murdered. At a wedding after party. That's my excuse.

We don't know what got him that night. Mary says he had a stroke or a heart attack. The newspapers say a friend of his was drunk and shot him. My father says he killed himself, as he had been suffering from an early stage of depression as well as smoking. People there said he was murdered by someone. I never figured out who was right.

I was too afraid of going to any sort of party because something similar would happen to me. It was like that nagging fear that was so unlikely, like being afraid that the Golden Gate Bridge would collapse if you drove across it. If I went to a party of any sort, I would be mugged and murdered.

I walked down the hallway, glancing out the long windows at the snowy parking lot. I sighed in relief when I saw that Jasper and his siblings hadn't approach the school; they lingered by the silver car, chatting amongst themselves.

A sudden crack erupted from above and someone groaned. Drops of water began raining down outside, washing all traces of snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the windows and the side of the walkway. Other complaints came from other students as they walked to class. I went on my way and stayed behind a boy from my Physics class until we reached the room.

As I entered the room, people were crowding the windows by my seat, witnessing the rain come down in heavy sheets. A few people moved back to their seats and I took mine, setting my bag on the floor beside me. Class didn't start for ten more minutes, maybe.

"Excuse me," said a quiet voice.

I looked up casually, my eyes meeting those of Jasper Hale's. His curly hair was dripping with water, a few drops streaming down his face. His gaze was careful and expectant. He seemed even taller as I sat there, stunned.

"You're in my seat," he mentioned lightly. "You're actually one over."

"Oh," I gasped, "I'm sorry." I looked at where I sat now, by the window, and vaguely remembered my seat was on the right side of the table. We transferred to our seats in silence.

There was now seven minutes before class started, and the ticking of the clock started to get on my nerves, making me jittery. He seemed to be indecisive about whether he wanted to say something to me or not, his eyes shifting between his hands and me; I pulled out a book I'd bought in Port Angeles I was currently reading_, Dracula_. I was a sucker for classics.

"My name is Jasper Hale," he said finally in musical voice. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself when you arrived. You're Allison Rossi?"

I set down the book and looked at him, only able to nod. My mind was swimming in confusion. Had I imagined the whole thing? He was polite now, making eye contact and everything. He appeared to me as almost a different person.

"Do you like it here?" he asked.

I fingered a page in my book to keep my hands busy; the corner tore under my thumb. I brushed it away with the flick of my wrist and dared to look at him.

"It's . . . different," I said. "It's colder and wet."

He chuckled. "Was it warm where you lived?"

"I guess Houston is warm," I answered. I couldn't turn my eyes away and the book slid away from my hand, smacking against the tile sharply. He bent to retrieve it, setting it cautiously on the corner of my desk by my elbow. Before he could speak, I blurted out, "Did you get contacts or something? Your eyes are kind of brown. They were black before."

"No, no," he said quickly and folded his hands together. "It's the lighting. It's different in parts of the building."

"Oh." I looked to the front of the room awkwardly. But his eyes were different. The last time he'd shot a glare at me, his eyes were a vivid black. The color had been striking against his snow white skin and golden hair. But today they were a toasty butterscotch color. I couldn't think of how that could be, unless I was slowly going crazy, which I probably was.

Thankfully, Mrs. Minora decided to start the class at the exact moment. She shut the door as grabbed her clipboard, calling off names in the roll. The sound of rain lessened against the windows to a soft pitter-patter sound. I sat there until she called me name, to which I answered with a meek, "Here".

Mrs. Minora clicked her pen and gathered papers in her arms from the table at the front of the room. She talked as she moved around the room.

"I'm passing out your last test," she announced. "Some of you did amazing"—she passed a sheet to Jasper—"and some of you . . . not so good." She placed my test face down in front of me with a disappointed glare and resumed her speech as she handed them out.

I snatched it up and found a bold C in red ink smeared on the top. I groaned and stuffed it in my bag. Mary would kill me if she found out. Or worse, she'd give me "the" speech. I'd already heard it plenty of times before when I was younger and wasn't making stellar grades.

I subtly peeked over at Jasper's paper. It was marked with an A minus. A hint of jealousy grew in my chest and I turned back to the front.

"Now," Mrs. Minora said, "I'm scheduling another test later on in the next few weeks. It will be over chapters eleven, twelve and thirteen, so that is why I'm giving you today in class to study with a partner. Use your time wisely." With that, she clapped her hands and made her way back to her desk.

The entire room seemed to stand at once as students moved around to sit with the partner of their choice. Jasper pulled out a neatly stapled packet that was covered in highlighting and placed it in front of him. It was labeled by chapters, starting with the first of the book. He rested his forehead against his hand, his elbow against the tabletop, and flipped a page.

No one neared us, as our seats were in the back of the room, away from the noise and chatter. I waited a few moments and hesitated.

"May I?" I said awkwardly, gesturing to his packet.

He nodded and slid the packet to me. I reached out to take it and his hand caught mine. His fingers were ice-cold, like he'd held them in the snowdrift before class. I jerked my hand away, but not because his was cold. It was almost like he shocked me. It was similar to that feeling he gave me the first day I sat by him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. He let me take the packet and examine it on my own. While I flipped the page, I felt his eyes on me and I looked up nervously from under my lashes. It was hard to concentrate on the organized information with him watching my every move. As if noticing my uneasiness, he looked down.

I took a deep breath and focused on the print. It was neatly written in a thin scrawl with yellow highlighter marked across the page. I read over the words several times. His notes started in the first chapter and ended with the twentieth chapter. I glared at him with a questioning look.

"But we haven't even covered chapter twenty," I muttered to myself.

"I take my own notes," he explained, hearing me. "I find it easier that way." His voice cracked a little and I looked up at him. His hands were clenched into fists in his lap.

Mrs. Minora cleared her throat. She stood beside me in the aisle, her lips puckered as she looked at the packet in my hands. She glanced from me to Jasper, and then back to me.

"Stop chatting," she scolded. "You should study if you want to get a better grade on your next test, Ms. Rossi."

My face grew warm as she mumbled something else and walked away. Jasper didn't ask about my test grade; I was thankful for that.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Jasper asked, peering through the window. There was an edge to his voice.

"I guess," I answered. I placed his packet by his hands, not interested in the material.

"Does it ever snow in Houston?"

"Not often. That might explain why I don't like snow or the cold," I muttered.

"This must be a difficult place for you to live, then," he mused.

"A little."

He was fascinated by me, as he kept his eyes in contact with mine and only broke the connection once or twice. On my part, it was hard to look away: his face was perfect. Perfect skin, perfect lips, and perfect eyes. It was like looking at the models in clothing magazines, only he was beyond their beauty.

"Why did you come here, then?"

I'd never heard that question directed at me before, not even from Melissa or Heather or Conner. It was a shock to me and I was unprepared to answer immediately.

"It's . . . complicated," I sighed finally.

His eyes darted to the clock and he presented me with a tiny smile that flashed the tips of his white teeth. "I've got time."

I paused for a long moment, taking in his smile. I moved up to his eyes. They confused me, and I answered involuntarily.

"My parents got divorced," I started slowly.

"It doesn't sound that complex," he said, "if you think about it. Hundreds of people get divorced every day." Then he saw my expression and his eyes softened. "When did this happen?"

"A while ago. I don't even remember." It was pitiful, really, that I didn't remember when my parents parted ways. "I was young."

"Is that all?" Jasper pressed, his voice still sympathetic.

"My dad got remarried, if that's what you mean."

"That's what I mean." I shrugged and he continued. "Do you not like her?"

He was obviously referring to Vikki. I sighed. "No, not at all. She's the total opposite of him. Boring, lifeless, cruel. You get the point."

He furrowed his brows. "So you moved to Forks to get away from her?"

"Basically." He kept his full attention focused on me, his penetrating eyes meeting mine.

"Do you have family here?" he asked.

"My mother. My biological mother, I mean," I stammered. "She owns a hair salon in town and she offered to take me in."

He nodded, absorbing all that I'd said so far. "What do you mean by 'take you in'?"

"Oh, Vikki's an artist. She travels a lot and she brings my dad along now. I used to go with them, but it was hard to fit their schedule around mine. My mom in Forks was the only person who could let me live with her without my dad and step mom worrying." I half smiled.

"And your dad sent you here so he could travel with her?" His tone hinted assumption.

My chin raised a fraction. "I sent myself. I chose to come."

He stared at me and pursed his lips. "I don't understand," he admitted. He seemed frustrated by that fact.

I tore my gaze away to study my nails and pressed my tongue to my cheek. Why was I explaining this to him? I felt his curious eyes on me, pleading for me to continue.

"He stayed with me for a while, but he felt like he wasn't being a good husband by staying away from her . . . and I felt like spending time with my mom." My voice sounded pathetic when I finished.

"But you're unhappy," he alluded.

"So?" I snapped. I was one more sentence away from grabbing my book again and ignoring him completely.

"That doesn't seem fair, does it?" His eyes were soft and the golden tone made them look molten.

"Nothing's fair anymore," I mumbled glumly. "That's it. That's the end of my story."

"You put on a fair show," he said, smiling in response. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I grimaced at him. "Who are you? Dr. Phil?"

This brought a smug expression to his face. "Am I incorrect?"

I huffed and sat back in my seat with my arms crossed, like a young kid in a tantrum. I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

"I didn't think so," he laughed satisfactory.

"Okay, why does it even matter to you?" I retorted, watching the clock get closer to when the bell would ring. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at him. His face fell from the triumphant look it once held.

"That's a great question," he mumbled and I was sure he was talking to himself. That was the only answer I was going to get, I realized after a few minutes of silence from him. I scowled as he examined his pale hands.

"Am I irritating you?" he asked. His tone sounded amused, yet concerned.

"A little," I confessed. He didn't meet my eyes. "But it's more me than you. I'm not used to telling people about my life right off the bat." I was thankful he hadn't asked if I had any siblings yet.

"I guess I'm one of the lucky ones, aren't I? I get to hear a fascinating story from a pretty girl on a nice day."

The words linked in my mind as soon as he said them and I glanced down. He lifted his head and I could tell he was a little flustered by the words that he'd spoken. My face was warm, most likely growing a bright red.

Mrs. Minora called the class to order a few minutes before the next passing period, and I turned to listen with relief. I was in utter shock that I'd just explained most of my life to this confusing, beautiful boy who may have mixed feelings about me, as I did him. I didn't know what to think of him, actually. He'd seemed completely absorbed in our conversation, but now, from the corner of my eye, he had his back to me, thumbing through his own book. One hand was clenched in a fist around the corner of his desk with unbearable tension.

I tried to appear awake and alert as Mrs. Minora scribbled down a few things on the board, but my mind was wandering, my thoughts directed at Jasper. When the bell finally rang, he rushed swiftly from the room as he had before. This time, though, I tried to keep my eyes forward instead of staring in amazement.

My mind was still clouded with my Physics conversation when I got to Photography. Melissa was waiting for me, although I could barely concentrate on her, let alone my landscape portrait. She walked with me to Gym, and I was as clumsy as ever, missing passes in basketball and nailing a teammate in the back of the head.

At lunch, Conner's chatter consumed most of my concentration, considering Heather tried to interrupt him every chance she got. He aimed his questions at me but Heather would answer.

"So Allison," Conner started. I sat between him and Melissa; Heather shot daggers at me from across the table. "About the-"

"I'll be right back," I said blindly and stood up, making my way to the lunch line. I wasn't in the mood for food; my stomach was queasy from the day already, and I had two classes left. One of them included Jasper. That was the one I wasn't looking forward to.

I grabbed a soda and sipped it as I took my time walking back to my table. The carbonation settled my stomach, but not enough to keep me calm. I took the long way around, which gave Jasper and Edward a full view of me as I shuffled back to my table. Edward's head was down; Jasper watched me, biting his lip as if he wanted to say something.

While I was in the line, Conner had left to go to the bathroom. I sat down and sighed when Heather squealed suddenly.

"Oh, my God, Allison!" she squeaked. "Conner just asked me to the winter formal!" She clapped her hands together quickly and dabbed at her tearing eyes again, disposing of black mascara running down her cheeks. Melissa rolled her eyes overdramatically and made a gagging gesture with her hands.

"That is great!" I said a little too enthusiastically. I really was happy for her. I didn't dance and I didn't party. I'd rather stick pins in my eyes than go to a formal with a date. "Do you have a date, Melissa?"

She shook her head once. "Negative. I'm flying solo this time." But then she cocked her head with an excited look on her face. "Hey, we could go together."

"Not without looking like lesbians," Heather pointed out while chewing on a leaf of salad.

"As _friends_," Melissa clarified, emphasizing the last word in Heather's petite face. She sniffed, swallowed her mouthful and went back to a thermos of hot chocolate.

Conner came back and downed his lunch quickly, while he stared at my single soda. He offered me part of his sandwich but I declined. I slurped the rest of my drink and tossed the aluminum can in the trash. I left the cafeteria before the bell rang.


	7. Chapter 6: More Damage

_**Yay! I'm almost done with band camp! But the sad part is that school starts in almost a week and I'm a freaking freshman. God, let me get through this year unscathed and I will thank you for the rest of my life, which I should be doing already but you know how time works. It's so busy I barely have time to breathe. So enough about me. I finally got time to upload this sixth chapter! And when school starts, the chapters will be coming a lot less frequently, so be on the look out. Enjoy!

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"Students," Mr. Murphy preached in fourth, "you and your partner will be assigned with a topic for our upcoming project." Groans erupted from the student body. "You and your partner will compose a four-page essay on any invention in America's history that changed society. For extra credit, you may construct a model of your invention if possible.

"Now"—he paused as he reached for his clipboard—"since some of you have made poor choices in choosing your partners, I've come up with a list that will suit everybody's needs." I caught Conner staring at me and he held up his crossed fingers. He was obviously hoping we'd be partners. My heart leapt into my throat. There was a tug in my stomach that made me hope Jasper was my partner, only to talk to him. I got tired of it quickly in Physics, but I found myself wanting to hear his voice again. It didn't make much sense.

"Caitlynn, you're with Brett. Conner, with Allison. Jasper, with Kelly." The odds were in some people's favor today, I assumed, considering the grin plastered on Conner's face. "Get to work, people!"

Students scattered, some with the person they liked, others with the person they despised. Conner scampered eagerly over to where I sat and took the desk next to me, pushing next to mine.

"So, partner," he said giddily as he reached for a book, "what shall we do for our report?"

I shrugged and glanced up at the board and began copying down the assignments into my planner. I glanced up again to catch the last few words, and Jasper was holding a thin stack of notebook paper, studying me. The world seemed to freeze for a moment. Then I blinked and turned back to Conner. It was going to be a long class.

I made it through fourth by a hair. By the end of Mr. Stewart's grueling ending lecture over Romeo and Juliet in fifth period, I was ready to go home, grab a cup of hot chocolate and sleep, considering the entire day. The bell forced me up and out the door behind everyone else itching to get away from the classroom. The freezing cold wind shocked me awake when I reached the parking lot. I flew into my car and automatically cranked up the heat, and it blew through the air vents, warming the entire car.

I waited for a familiar black car to drive past before pulling out behind it. In the mirror of the car, I spotted a curly blonde head, accompanied by a long haired blonde and boy with short, chestnut hair. Jasper owned the black car. I peered at the label; it was a Jaguar. A silver Volvo drove up behind me. I tapped my fingers against the dashboard and watched the clock. It was like watching water boil: painfully slow and boring.

Before me, the Jaguar still hadn't moved and I dug through my bag for my phone. A sudden rapping on the window caused me to jump. I rolled down the window and saw the boy, Michael, from Conner's posse.

"Hey, Allison," he said. How did he even know me? His voice was smooth and it was obvious that what he was going to say was prepared. Like practiced for an hour in front of the mirror, prepared. "Would you want to go to the winter formal with me?" He was calmer than Conner, not stuttering or stammering.

Glancing out the windshield, the Jaguar still hadn't budged one bit. He was setting me up. In the mirror, I could see the corner of his lips turn up on one side.

"Gosh, Michael," I said. My eyes darted between him and the car in front of me. "I really wish I could, but I already have a date." It was a total lie, of course, but hopefully it would get him to lay off the touchy subject.

He nodded and said okay, telling me we'd see each other tomorrow, although we had no classes together whatsoever. After I rolled up the window, the Jaguar suddenly pushed forward and out onto the main road.

I made a mental note to kill Jasper tomorrow in Physics after trying to set me up and proceeded down the road to Mary's house. When I pulled into the drive, however, her car was gone, probably at the salon still.

Pushing this aside, I moved into the kitchen and tried poorly to make a quick cup of hot chocolate before starting on my mountain of homework. My hand jerked from the weight of the hot water, some of jumping from the small glass pitcher. An angry red blotch spread across my palm and I quickly abandoned the pitcher, setting it on the counter. My hand stinging, I jogged hastily upstairs to grab a bandage and a tube of burn cream. I shut the door and my teeth chattered together. I flipped the handle on the sink, letting hot water and steam warm up the room while blowing on my hand. It reminded me of the time when a bee had stung me on the tip of my ear when I was seven, only this time it was in my hand.

Once the steam had covered the mirrors and it felt like a mini sauna, I switched it off and carefully applied the cream to my aching palm. When I tore a square of bandage from the roll, a shatter rung out down stairs. It was sharp, like dropping glass on tile. Heavy voices murmured their way up to my ears and I slammed off the bathroom light. My muscles locked together.

Someone was in the house.

Trying to as silent as possible, I sprung in the empty bath tub and concealed myself with the curtain. My heart slammed against my rib cage and I had to control my breathing so it didn't sound like asthmatic wheezing.

Something else crashed, and the voices praised the smashed object. It hit me that I could call 911, but the only phones in the house were downstairs, in the kitchen and in the living room, but my cell phone sat snuggly in my pocket. As I pulled it out, the battery sign flashed at me and the screen flickered to black.

I sat in the bathtub and ground my teeth. I wanted to wait it out, to see if the voices would leave and not find me. However, Mary would have quite a heart attack if she found her house in smithereens and me, possibly, dead. I shook my head and leaned against the faucet. There was nothing I could do. If I wanted to stay alive and go unnoticed, then I should stay where I was.

But my phone charger in my bedroom was also an option. If I could get a hold of that and plug in my phone, I might have enough time to call the police and straighten this all out. If I couldn't get a hold of it, I was in trouble.

I was near a stroke as I mulled over what I was attempting to do. I slid past the shower curtain, wincing when my foot snagged a shampoo bottle and it crashed. I waited for a moment before creeping quietly to the bathroom door. My good hand reached out for the handle. If the voices were in the kitchen, their owners wouldn't spot me.

I pulled the door opened slowly, carefully, trying not to cause the hinges to squeak or squeal. As the door sat open a crack, I licked my dry lips. Footsteps pounded to and from the kitchen and maybe all over the living room. I faltered. _They'll do more damage if I wait,_ I thought.

_1, 2, 3!_

I sprung forward into the hall, scrambling through the opened door of my room, and tripping over my own feet. I landed with a _THUD!_ on the bedroom rug, not daring to move. Footsteps grunted up the stairs to investigate. I stumbled to the closet and slammed the door behind me, not bothering to flick the light on.

My hands blindly groped around my closet and the footsteps reached the hallway. My fingers snagged a long, thin wire and I searched both ends for the plug. The cord led me to the wall, where it was already secured in an outlet. The end came up in my hands and I jammed it in the side of my phone.

The footsteps crossed over the threshold of my room and there were a few seconds as the phone turned on. The screen glowed in front of me and I hastily pressed the three numbers that would connect me to the police.

The closet door swung opened to reveal three men heavily clothed in black, wearing matching ski masks. The front one held a switchblade in his hand and light glinted off it. I frantically brought the receiver to my ear, the number already dialed and connecting. The second man struck forward and clenched my wrist, making me drop the phone, and jerked me forward, just as the operator said on the other line, "911, what is your emergency?"

Two of the men held my forearms and tugged me in different directions until my arms felt ready to be yanked from the sockets. They slammed me against the wall by the door, my head smashing against a picture frame. The dial tone was still blaring from the closet, though it shouldn't have been that loud. The first masked one tilted my head up with a thick gloved finger and chuckled. His breath reeked of alcohol. He prepared the knife in his other hand; I was frozen with pure terror. My whole body trembled as he pressed the smooth blade against my throat, against my pulse point.

"Touch her and I'll snap your necks."

Hands unclenched me and the men flew back as if I'd electrocuted them, one tripping over my textbook. I grasped my neck, checking for blood, as one man pointed the knife forward to the door. I stayed flat against the wall, too afraid to move an inch.

This couldn't be a police officer; my call hadn't made it through and no one knew what my address was, or what the matter was. The voice that spoke was oddly familiar, not tough and grizzly and old. It was kind and smooth, like flowing honey. It was Jasper.

The front man flung his knife at the door and I shrieked, dropping to my knees and covering my head. The knife rebounded, landing in front of me, its blade crookedly bent at a 90 degree angle. The men glanced at the twisted metal before charging the door. Footsteps drummed down the stairs and a door slammed, a lock clicked, and a swear was declared to the world.

All was silent. I eased the door shut with trembling hands and paced the floor like a caged lion, shaking like a vibrating chair. My own heart sounded like it was beating in my ears. As my mind tried to piece all of this together, I clutched myself, hoping to keep me from falling apart. My mind was racing too frantically to sort everything out properly.

The door was pushed opened delicately, letting in a small stream of golden light. I glanced to the door with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights.

"Allison?" a voice whispered softly. Jasper stuck his head in, followed by the rest of his body. He shut the door behind him and leaned back against it. There was something murderous in his eyes and it was impossible to tear my eyes away.

"What?" I whimpered and choked back the wetness in the corners of my eyes. He took a few steps toward me.

"I should kill them," he spoke softly, but with an edge to his voice. His hands clenched at his sides.

"No, you shouldn't," I suggested.

"Then distract me!" he suddenly shouted and I cringed. "Anything! Anything to keep me sane!"

I couldn't think for a second. His homicidal gaze was terrifying, yet captivating, alluring. He ran his hands through his hair. Suddenly I felt angry, then nothing.

"How'd you get into my house?" I asked. My voice was trembling.

He laughed manically for a split second. "You really shouldn't leave your front door unlocked."

I couldn't think of anything intelligent to counter with.

"You need to rest," he advised. His voice and his expression were both abruptly soft. "I'll stay with you until your mom comes home."

I nodded and sat back on my bed, my head leaning against the headboard. He took a seat at the foot of my bed. I yawned and curled myself into a ball on my bed sheets, my eyes locked on Jasper. He stared back, drinking in my appearance.

"How did you know?" I breathed. "How did you know I was in trouble?"

"Go to sleep," he retorted.

"I just want to know how you knew, that's all." I was slightly appalled.

"I don't want to talk about it." His voice was rough and he looked away.

"You have to tell me, though," I pressed and leaned forward. "I'm not going to let this slip."

He took a deep breath and met my eyes. They seemed to glow in the dim light. "Not now. I'll tell you but not now."

"You have to promise," I begged. "You have to promise you'll tell me."

He rolled his eyes, exasperated with me. "Fine. I promise I'll tell you."

"You have to pinky promise," I added.

His expression was bewildered and his forehead wrinkled in confusion. I stifled a small laugh. "What?"

I leaned forward and reached out to him, my hand extended and my fifth finger sticking out. "It's called a pinky promise. You have to-"

"I know what it is," he snapped. "Why do you want me to do it?"

I glared at him. "It's the strongest promise anyone can make. Now pinky promise me you're going to tell me."

He looked away, mulling the thought over in his head. He looked back at my hand. "Whatever." He leaned forward and locked his fifth finger with mine. I still couldn't get over how frozen his hand was. It was like shaking hands with a block of ice. He seemed to almost pull me forward, closer to him. Shivering, I pulled away and leaned back against the pillows.

"Thank you." He only nodded.

We fell into a deep silence, except for the dial tone still blaring from the small phone in the closet.


	8. Chapter 7: Big City

_**Yay, another chapter! I've gotten a few nice reviews on the last one! Thanks so much and keep it up! The story will get a little longer and more interesting as it goes along. I've had a bit more time to write because of a shorter band schedule, but I won't be on tomorrow much like I am right now to post anything. And then I'm starting my first day as a freshman on Monday-.- So wish me luck on that... I hope I'll still have a little more time to post a few things now and then... Until then, enjoy!**_

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When I woke, my room was faded with the colors of pink and gray. It wasn't dark yet. My bedside clock read nearly seven at night. My room was empty. Last night felt like a dream . . . or had it happened today? I couldn't remember which.

There was a small blipping noise that emanated from my closet and I stumbled from my bed to investigate. On the threshold of my closet sat a small phone, the cord and outlet plate yanked from the wall. It blipped once more and I shuddered at the memory. I could almost feel the metal blade against my throat as I placed the receiver back on the cradle.

I peeked out from my closet. The blade was gone, and so was a certain someone.

That night, I kissed Mary's cheek before rushing up to bed. Sitting in my room, I flicked the lights on. My copy of Dracula sat by my pillow and I picked it up, thumbing through to the bookmark.

I didn't remember falling asleep.

The sheets were tangled around my legs and my eyes shot open. My forehead was beaded with sweat and I sat up, breathing heavily. A shadow moved in the corner of my room. I tensed and clutched the sheets in my hands. My eyes locked with Jasper Hale's and I turned, fumbling for my lamp switch. When light illuminated the room, I glanced back quickly. He was gone.

That was the first night I dreamt of Jasper Hale.

Lunch was sunny. We sat at metal picnic tables propped up around the back of the school. I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and picked at my apple. It was Friday. Another day without Jasper and the mysterious Cullens.

"Hey, Melissa?" I asked hesitantly.

"Hmm?" She and Heather were flipping through a fashion magazine, apparently the one from a dress shop in Port Angeles. She stopped on a page and pointed out a teal dress to Heather. Heather shook her head disdainfully.

"Is it normal for the . . . Cullens" –I kept my eyes on the page of the magazine they were looking at—"to be out of school a lot?"

Melissa glanced up at me, and then back at the dresses. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. They're all real outdoorsy, so Dr. and Mrs. Cullen yank them out for hiking and camping. That sort of stuff."

"But that's only when the weather's nice, like today," Heather added. She flipped the page and squealed at a strapless magenta dress. She glanced at Melissa. "We should so go dress shopping tonight. You know, get the good dresses before they get cleaned out."

"We have to go dress shopping for a Winter Formal?" I asked. "Shouldn't it be like, just a wear-what-you-have event or something?"

"No," Heather replied curtly. "It's the Winter Formal. It's the next best thing to prom."

I nodded. "So where is this place?"

"Port Angeles, of course," Melissa answered. "It's the best dress shop in the city."

"Do you mind if I come with you?" I wouldn't; maybe there'd be a bookstore or something I could find.

"No, not at all. We need your opinion anyway."

"Okay. Thanks."

That was that.

After school, Melissa and Heather followed me home so I could ditch my bag and my car. I hurried inside to place my bag on the kitchen table and tucked my phone in my pocket. I quickly asked permission from Mary to go at the last second as I brushed my hair; she said it was fine, just be careful.

There was a trill of excitement in my veins. I was going to the big city, Port Angeles, for the first time since my arrival in Forks. I was going beyond the boundaries of the little town for once.

The ride to Port Angeles was loud. We listened to some whiny rock station on the radio while Heather and Melissa chatted. Melissa was multitasking and applying black gloss to her lips with one hand on the wheel. Heather was flipping through the same magazine and circled dresses with a bold red marker.

Port Angeles was a gorgeous little tourist trap, much more modern and polished than Forks. Melissa and Heather had claimed they knew the city like the back of their hands, and I hoped they were right. We passed a picturesque boardwalk by the bay and several small shops. Melissa drove straight through the city without a second glance at anything, and we ended up in front of a large dress shop.

"Seriously," I complained as we drifted between racks and racks of dresses, "isn't this just a minor dance?"

"It's not just a minor dance," Heather said. She held out a simple black number, but grimaced when she saw the price tag. She hung it back up and looked at me again, her blue eyes glittering. "It's the biggest deal of first semester. Everyone over-does it."

I shrugged and followed them as we searched deeper in the store. Melissa had five or six dresses slung over her arm and waited for Heather to gather her picks. We were on our way to the dressing rooms when I mentioned I'd never been to a dance in Houston. They stared at me, disbelieving.

"Didn't you go with a boyfriend or something?" Heather called through the door of her room. I sat in a low chair just inside the dressing room, by the three way mirror.

"Not really," I said. "I've never had a boyfriend or anyone close that I wasn't related to. I never went to dances." I watched at my reflection in the mirror as I talked, the way my lips moved with each word.

"Why not?" Melissa demanded. She tossed a sparkly baby blue dress over the top of the door with the hanger. I straightened it out and hung it on the nearby rack for rejects.

"No one asked me." That was half the excuse, of course. I never wanted them, of all people, to know why I dreaded dances, even if they were my best friends.

"My god," Heather sighed. I could imagine her rolling her eyes. "They must have some stupid boys in Houston."

I laughed. "You have no idea."

Melissa appeared from her room and stood in front of the mirror. The dress she wore was knee-length and purple, the top a slate gray. A belt studded with rhinestones separated the colors; a long purple stripe was drawn diagonally on the skirt. Heather chose a pale blue dress that draped around her nicely and brought out her eyes. I complimented them graciously as I gathered the reject dresses and hung them on the rack. The whole process was much quicker than shopping with Mary in Forks, and seemed painless. Maybe it was because I wasn't looking for anything.

"Hey, Allison?" Melissa asked as she and Heather thumbed through the shoes and accessories. She held a glittery necklace in the light. Heather was now moving into the shoe section, leaving Melissa and I alone.

"Yeah?"

"You're going to the formal, right?"

I pursed my lips. Just the idea of it gave me chills.

"No, I'm not." I fingered with one of the display bracelets. It was a charm bracelet with a small jeweled cross hanging from one of the loops.

"You should," she insisted.

I stared at her. "Why?"

She shrugged and laughed nervously. "It'll be fun."

I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

"I just don't want to go alone that night," she admitted with a sigh.

"Why not?" I knew why I didn't want to go alone, but I wasn't about to tell anyone, even my best friend.

Melissa's face glowed with a furious red blush. "I'm trying to make a good first impression on someone."

"Is it a guy?" I asked with a slight grin. I picked up a bracelet from the display table. It was a simple silver charm bracelet with a cross hanging from one section of it, pulled together by a clasp.

Her face turned redder if it was possible. "Yeah. His name's Diego. Do you know him?"

I smiled. "I think he's in one of my classes, but I'm not sure. Has he ever talked to you?"

"A lot," she gushed. She set down the current necklace she was holding, a thick chained one, and turned to me. "He used to ride his bike up and down the street during the summer and I'd use that as an excuse to walk my dog and we'd talk."

"That's so sweet," I said excitedly. "Are you going to the formal with him?"

Her smile dropped. "That's why I want you to come with me. I'd feel better knowing one of my friends was there."

"Well, Heather's going to be there for sure," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but Heather's sort of an airhead, but I love her to death. I just feel more comfortable having you there."

"Anything," I promised and nodded, handing the bracelet to the cashier. She scanned the barcode and rung it up as I slid a twenty dollar bill across the glass.

"Thank you!" she cried. For a moment I thought she was actually going to cry. But when she saw the cashier glaring at us, she gained composure again. "Thank you so much, Allison. Do you want to just meet at the school?"

"Yeah, that's fine." I slipped my new bracelet onto my wrist and examined it. I lay against my skin, cold and hard, the metal glinting when I angled my wrist.

"Where are you going to wear that?" she asked and peered at my new accessory.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Anywhere I guess."

"You should wear it to the Formal. I bet you'd have a dress that would go with that."

I nodded. Melissa had just invited me to the formal and I'd agreed without protesting. I was about to say something, but part of me didn't want to ruin her night trying to dance with Diego. The other part was that Heather returned with a pair of strappy silver heels and I dropped the subject.

We planned to go to dinner at a little Chinese restaurant by the bay, but the dress shopping hadn't taken that long, so we had an extra hour of time left. Melissa and Heather decided to take their clothes down to the car and then walk down to the bay before we ate. But instead, I told them I'd meet them at the restaurant-I wanted to look for a decent bookstore. Melissa was eager to join me, and after a nudge in the ribs, so was Heather. I told them they didn't have to. They should enjoy they bay before it got too dark to see. Heather dragged Melissa back to the car, who reluctantly followed. They didn't know how preoccupied I got in a bookstore. I could live in one, if I had a bed. I'd have Starbucks for breakfast every morning.

I had no trouble following Heather's directions to the bookstore, but it wasn't really what I was looking for. But I went in anyway.

The door dinged when I pushed it open. The windows were full of crystals dangling from the ceiling and dream catchers hung from the walls. On the display table there were books on spiritual healing. A mountain of candles formed in the corner. The rest of the store was dotted with ones that were lit and set off a calming scent.

"Allison?"

I glanced up, startled. Embry Call was sitting behind the counter, counting a wad of green bills in his hands.

"Hey, Embry," I greeted. It was odd to see him in this kind of store. "Do you work here or something?"

"Yeah, it's my afternoon job. I work for another two hours." He set down the bills and pulled up a stool on the opposite side of the counter. He wore a small nametag that donned his name on his shirt; his black hair was disheveled and his eyes were tired in the flickering candle light. I could tell he'd been working for a while. "How's it going?"

"Good," I replied and sat down on the stool. I dropped my bag to my feet and glanced around at the book shelves that were overflowing with novels on everything from legends to home remedies.

"Do you get out here often?" he questioned. "I know it's a while from Forks. It takes even longer to get here from La Push."

"No, not that often. I'm just here on a request."

"What kind of request?" Embry picked up a book from a small stack between us, scanning the barcodes. The covers were undamaged, so I assumed they were fairly new.

"A shopping one. My friends are down at the bay right now. We went dress shopping for the Winter Formal at our school."

"That's cool. What kind of dress did you get?" he asked. He picked up the stack of books and moved to the bookshelf behind him. He arranged the books by their genre and the authors.

"I didn't get one." Even though he was turned away from me, I could tell his smile had dropped. "I'm not going; I don't like dances."

"That's a shame," he sighed. He slid the last book on the shelf and turned back to his computer, typing a few words in. "La Push always has the best parties. Actually, we're throwing one in a few days. You know the way to La Push, right?"

"Yeah, sure. It's a great beach."

"You want to come?"

I stared at him. "You want me to come to a reservation party?"

"Yeah, definitely. We could use a party animal." He laughed and dug under the counter. He came up with a box of incense.

"Whatever. Do you need help with that?" I gestured to the box he had in his arms.

"Sure," he said, almost sounding relieved. "It's a little heavy though."

I walked around to the other side of the counter and he slid the box into my arms. My knees weakened a little and my hands scrambled to keep it in my grip.

Embry laughed mockingly. "I told you it was heavy."

"Oh, whatever," I panted. "Just tell me where to put this thing."

Embry was bent over, examining the lower half of the bookshelf. "There's a section in the back with candles and everything. Just set it down by one of the shelves and I'll put them away later."

I nodded briefly and trudged to the back, my arms starting to ache from the weight of the box. I swerved around displays of glass pots and other breakable objects when I came to the section piled with incense. I bent down and dropped it; it landed with a thud on the hardwood.

"You okay?" Embry called back to me. His voice was mixed with a little anxiousness.

"Just fine," I replied quickly to assure him. "Are you sure you don't want me to put them on the shelf?"

"I'm sure. Just leave them where they are and I'll get to them later. Thanks, though."

"No problem," I mumbled while studying the bookshelves. There were books of all kinds stacked together: fat novels on endangered species, thin little cookbooks with recipes from Indian cultures and others of the like. My eyes traveled across the shelves. A small golden dog on the spine of a leather bound book stopped me.

I stretched on my toes and swatted my hand at it until it came down in my grip. The leather was well-worn and was a soft, faded brown. The title, Quileute Legends, was printed in gold. The dog that was on the spine was actually a wolf. I flipped the cover open. There was no copyright label, or an author nor publishing company. I turned another few pages and it started in small black print. I went through the whole book. There weren't any chapters.

"Hey, Embry," I said as I walked back to the front of the store. I still fingered through the pages, too mesmerized to look up.

"Oh," he said shortly. When I looked up at him finally, he perked his voice. "Hey, you found that book. I've been looking for that for forever."

"What's it about?" I questioned.

Embry took the book from my hands and went to sit behind the counter again, and I sat down on the stool. He tossed the book lightly to each hand, weighing it once. He was obviously stalling, so I asked again.

"My past. Not my personal past, but my culture and where we came from." He checked his watch hesitantly. "I don't really have time to talk about it now, but you can keep the book to look over, if you want. I don't mind." He set the book on the counter and turned to his computer, clacking away at the keys.

"Really? A minute ago you seemed glad to have it back."

My suspicion caught him and he turned his head in my direction. "Uh, yeah, I am, but since I don't really have time to explain the entire story to you, you can read over it. It's basically what I was going to explain, only in a lot more detail and much better sense." He laughed and his white teeth contrasted against his rich skin and long dark hair.

"Oh, thanks." I smiled warmly at him and slid the book in my bag.

He nodded and avoided eye contact with me. I glanced through the barrier of crystals on the windows at the bay. The water glittered from the bright glow of the boardwalk restaurants and the streetlights were turned on, giving the streets a haunted appearance.

"Hey," I said, not looking away from the view, "what time is it?"

"Almost seven thirty," he answered. "Why? Are you supposed to be somewhere?"

"Yes!" I'd completely forgotten about my dinner plans with Heather and Melissa. They were probably freaking out right now. I stumbled off the stool and flung my bag over my shoulder. "I was supposed to meet my friends down at this restaurant on the walk bay . . . I mean, boardwalk!" I glared at Embry as he laughed.

"I guess I'll see you later, then!" he called as I rushed out the door, my phone in hand. "You know where to find me," he added softly. I nodded back to him and walked down to the main road that would lead me to the boardwalk.

My eyes darted from my phone to the street several times so I wouldn't misdial or trip. The small battery sign in the corner of the screen was empty, flashing like crazy. I groaned as it the screen turned black and shut down.

I glanced up at the bright city lights and realized I had no idea where I was going.

* * *

_**Just a little author's note: That was a really cheesy chapter for me to writeXD Just saying. **_


	9. Author's Note

Okay, so I've gotten a few e-mails about the story so far. Thanks to you all who have been posting positive comments about the story! You're all life savers. I could always use constructive criticism! And in this short Author's Note, I just wanted to clear up a few things because a few people have e-mailed me with questions. This is just in case I didn't make them clear in the beginning, which was most likely the case. Damn, I always do that... So, here are the questions.

**_What grade is Allison in?_**

Allison is a senior at Forks High School and is currently eighteen years of age. I made it this way so that Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper are seniors, as they should be in Twilight. Though the movies don't portray it well AT ALL, Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett are supposed to be seniors in Twilight and they graduate in Twilight. That's how it goes. Bella and Edward are juniors, the way they started out in Twilight. Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper graduate in Twilight and are supposed to be in college during the course of New Moon. Edward and Bella graduate in Eclipse because Twilight is their junior year and New Moon is their senior year. It always confused me how Edward was able to graduate after being away so long, but I guess he made it all up in the course of what? Three or four weeks? Oh well, back to the point! I made it this way because if I put everyone a year back so it would follow the story line of the Twilight books, that would be too unoriginal and I like being original in my work. Plus it would be weird to write about the oldest Cullens being juniors when they're supposed to be FREAKING SENIORS. :)

_**Are you going to call her Alli for short?**_

Yes, that is Allison's nickname. She is going to be called that off and on in the future by her mom and a few of the other characters that hang around her. Both her mother, Mary, and her father, Dave, call her that for short, however Vikki, her step-mother, calls her Allison. They find it easier and Allison doesn't mind. She responds to both Alli or Allison. Certain people will call her by her full name, Allison, and some different people will call her by Alli. In the ending, her mother uses her complete name, Allison Danielle Rossi, when she raises her voice at her. Her mother will switch between calling her Alli and Allison throughout the story, just to let you know.

_**Love the O.C., but where is Alice?**_

I'm sorry to say, but Alice does not exist in this fanfiction. I know, I know, I'm very evil:) But this is how I wrote it. Alice is not a part of this story, nor will she ever be. If Alice was in this story, then Jasper wouldn't even be interested in Allison, thus there would practically be no plot, unless you can come up with a plot where JASPER FALLS IN LOVE WITH ANOTHER GIRL THAT'S NOT ALICE AND SHE'S IN THE SAME STORY AS THAT GIRL. THAT WOULD NOT BE POSSIBLE TO WRITE, MIND YOU. HECK, I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW I'M WRITING _THIS _ONE WITHOUT ALICE. IT'S INSANE, I KNOW. YOU CAN KILL ME LATER, OKAY? JUST LET ME POST THE REST OF THIS DANG STORY, OKAY?

And also, see what I did there? I made the main character's name Allison so it sort of relates to Alice, just because I couldn't stand writing a story about Jasper and some girl named Veronica or Emily or Ashley or Lucy or whatever other names you want to put in there. Allison is also a popular name at my school and this character of Allison Rossi also once stared in a short Harry Potter fanfiction with the same appearance and everything. That story is deleted, so you will not be able to read. (Sorry for the HP fans. It was an early work and took me one week to write, so therefore it was horrible. Sorry.)

So if you really like Alice and can't stand to not see her in this story, I strongly suggest you stop reading right now, because it's going to ignore Alice even more! SO DONT CONTINUE READING IF YOU FREAKING LOVE ALICE TO DEATH. SHE DOES NOT EXIST IN THIS STORY WHATSOEVER, SO DON'T EXPECT HER IN IT! :)

_**Is her brother a vamp?**_

Um, I wish! But no. You know her brother's story, so no, he does not make a reappearance in this story whatsoever, though that would be freaking epic. Imagine that. Allison's brother coming back to torture her and Jasper... Nah. I'm not a fan of the idea. It just doesn't roll with me. So just to confirm it, he IS NOT a vampire and never will be in the future. This is just to show why Allison dreads going to any sort of party. She's afraid the same thing will happen to her and obviously she doesn't want that at all. She obviously cared about her brother and still does, even though it happened when she was too little to fully understand.

Yep, just wanted to clear a few more things up, so if you have any questions whatsoever, leave them in the comments and I'll try to answer them as soon as possible! Thanks again if you actually read this entire page of crap:D If you read it, you'll probably stick through the rest of the story, because this is the most boring thing I'll post that's attached to this storyXD So I will stop rambling on and on because I need my sleep and you probably don't want to read what I have to say! So thank you again!

-FutureRadio


	10. Chapter 8: Burning

_**Ugh, so school started for me today. I'm a freaking freshman, but I didn't get slammed into lockers like they do in typical moviesXD It was okay, actually. I found my classes okay and found out we have an eight minute passing period instead of a four minute one, like we did in middle school. I didn't get lost, but that was because I don't have classes upstairs for the first semester:) So that means more homework (I already had some Geometry today) and less time to write, so expect me to update less frequently. Hopefully I'll be able to post the last chapter of this story by the end of November maybe, because there's about 25 and this is only chapter 8. **_

_**Without further ado, please enjoy! And I might add...**_

**_THIS CHAPTER IS IN JASPER'S POINT OF VIEW, because since most of you already know he's a VAMPIRE, then it won't give away any spoilers. You don't know he's a VAMPIRE? Then what the hell are you doing reading this story?_**

**_I REPEAT: JASPER'S POINT OF VIEW._**

**_

* * *

_**

The cool air brushed against my face as I walked and waited outside the bookstore. There was a nagging feeling in my gut that told me I should leave and not converse with her. But I had to make sure nothing happened to her while in the city. There was something about her that was . . . so magnetic to me. She could draw anyone in with the flash of a smile, but I suffered the worst.

I wasn't drawn to her just because of her smile, or the slight twinkle in her eyes or her odd personality. It was also because of her . . . blood. I forced myself to think of the word. It was second nature to me, to us, to constantly think of it. It made me wince every time I dared to think of her as my next meal. She was delicate and I didn't want to hurt her.

She was in that store, talking with that . . . that idiot. Just the thought of him made me grind my teeth together. She shouldn't be talking to him, but I wasn't much better, I had to admit. After all, she wouldn't even look in my direction if she knew what kind of monster I was . . . but she wouldn't know. I would never let her find out.

I took a seat on a bench under a streetlight, listening in to their conversation. She laughed whenever the idiot said something or did something she thought was funny. It was relieving to hear her laugh, but the feeling faded when I realized it was aimed at him.

I shut my eyes and waited. All I'd ever done in my life was wait, wait for something to occur; this was no different. Over one hundred years of being frozen, never moving forward. It was definitely a long time to humans, but seemed like a snap of the fingers to me.

Every word she said flowed from her lips like music; she probably thought the same of me. At least, I hoped so, anyway.

Her friends, the fashion obsessed ones, were waiting for her at the restaurant. Why didn't she realize that? Didn't she know what time it was, that she had somewhere to be? Why didn't she come out of that damned bookstore already? I glanced to the bay. The dark waves slowly rocked together, reflecting the lights from the boardwalk.

She flipped a few pages in a book, it sounded like. She was emanating pleasure, and I forced my teeth together. It was killing me. They chatted for a few more minutes, his deep voice mingling with her petite one, and I did everything I could to keep myself from barging in and ripping his throat out.

I sighed. She would come. I'd just have to be patient.

To my left, three men, heavily clothed in black coats, stumbled down the road. They reeked of alcohol and their blood was sour. I wrinkled my nose in distaste. They eyed me lazily and continued down the road. Now my mind suddenly changed course. _Now _I wished she'd stay with him, safe within the store, away from the men. There was no telling what they would do if they were dunk, like I assumed them to be.

I wanted to protect her if—when—she finally came out of the store, but it would cost me. Though, how much could she see in the dark? She was a human; they didn't have good night vision. Not much, I supposed, even with the street lights on. Maybe . . .

I perked my ears as she stumbled through the store. She tripped over her words as well as her feet and he laughed, his voice booming. I glanced anxiously at the men down the street. Perhaps I could dispose of them quickly, without harming her. It would only take a second.

But it was too late. Her scent washed over me and I sucked in a breath; the bell hanging from the glass door rang at her exit. She shuffled down the wooden steps, the keys on her phone clicking as she opened a message. I stood up automatically. She seemed to not take note of me as she scrambled down the road. The men were far ahead of her and thankfully they didn't notice her. Yet.

Her pace was quick and skittish. She lifted her head suddenly and groaned, sticking her cell phone into the bag hanging from her shoulder. Hearing her noise of complaint, the drunken men looked lazily over their shoulders. One grinned and laughed, changing his course. His walking was slow and out of place as he sauntered toward her.

She didn't move and lifted her head. My hand clenched into a fist by my side and my chest hummed with a growl. Why didn't she move? The nuisance shifted in the bookstore; he was glancing out the window. I wouldn't let anyone touch her, no one. I stepped forward.

"Allison?" I croaked and began walking toward her. She whipped her head back and her emotions went wild. Confusion and fear battered me and I ducked my head down, but kept walking until we stood side by side. I held my breath to avoid inhaling her luscious scent and glanced back at the bookstore. He stood there, pressed against the window, watching the entire scene. I narrowed my eyes at him and turned back to her.

"Come on, Allison," I murmured, lightly grasping her wrist. She was shaking slightly and her skin was warm; there was a metal bracelet around her wrist that jingled with each movement. I slowly got her to walk with me, away from the men. The men shouted, their voices slurred, at us as we walked away, yet they didn't attempt to pursue us.

All the while, my mind was screaming at me. _You're making a mistake! You're making a huge mistake, doing this to her! Even though you're helping her, you've already helped her once! That's way past enough! _

"Jasper?" she whispered. Her voice trembled and her heart fluttered. I quickly withdrew my hand from her wrist and looked away.

"What?" I said, but it came out sharp.

"Nothing," she mused. Even in the dim light, her face glowed pink and the blood flushed to her cheeks. I breathed her scent in, just to feel the fire lick against my throat. Though I hated it, it felt oddly pleasant. It would only last a few minutes longer, I promised myself. Only a few more minutes. "Just checking that it was you."

"It's me," I replied. The sound of our footsteps on gravel disappeared in the absence of our voices and they turned hollow as we made our way onto the boardwalk. I glanced over my shoulder; the men were stumbling another way now, away from us and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Jasper?" she said again. "Thank you." She smiled slightly and refused to make eye contact with me, only glancing at the wooden boards beneath our feet.

"For what?" I stared straight ahead; one more look at her would send me into the deep end.

"Back there." Her voice was soft. "I wouldn't have been able to walk away; I can't do things like that. I was scared stiff."

I nodded, not knowing what to say for once.

"But there is one thing," she wondered and raised her head to me. "How did you-"

Her question was cut short as two girls rushed up to meet us. Her friends, Heather and Melissa. They ignored me completely, gushing over Allison with worried eyes and brushing hair from their faces.

"Where have you been?" the brunette, Melissa, asked quickly and tripped over her words. "We've been so worried!"

Allison opened her mouth when the blonde, Heather, spoke.

"We waited for you! We called you, like, a million times and you didn't answer! What happened? We thought you were, like, dead!"

"I got lost," she admitted sheepishly and traced a circle on the wood with the toe of her shoe. "And, um, ran into Jasper."

At the sound of my name, her two friends finally acknowledged my presence and looked up at me. Their expressions staggered slightly and I held back a small grin.

"So how about dinner?" Allison piped up, rubbing her hands together.

"Oh, yeah," Melissa said and her eyes darted back to her. "We wanted to wait for you so we could all eat together."

"That was thoughtful," I mumbled somewhat to myself, but loud enough for them to hear.

"Yeah." Allison nodded her head, agreeing. Her auburn hair looked golden under the streetlights and her bangs fell in her face; she brushed them back into place. "Thanks, guys."

"No problem, but seriously," Heather complained, "we should get going. I'm like, really hungry here." Melissa nodded in agreement.

"Right," she said and raised her head to me. "Um, Jasper? Do you want to join us?"

Her politeness shocked me; I looked down at my feet, anything to keep me away from looking at her directly. If I could just last for a few more minutes . . . "Oh, no, I couldn't. I wouldn't want to intrude on anything."

"Oh, you're fine," Heather said, waving her hand. "Just come eat with us. It's not such a big deal." Melissa nodded encouragingly.

"I couldn't," I repeated, focusing my gaze on them. The beings around me, humans especially, were easily affected by my gift, even the ones of my own kind. With just a little concentration and a bit of eye contact, they were like putty in my hands. I could manipulate how they felt whenever I wished, though I tried not to take advantage of it often. However, this seemed like the appropriate time.

Within in moments, the two girls straightened and their glares became sharp. Then, I knew I'd gotten to them. Irritation was easy to come by, especially if I handed it to them on a silver platter. More like forced them to feel that way, but it was close enough.

"Whatever," Heather snapped and adjusted the purse on her shoulder. "Let's go." After giving me a sharp glare, she turned on her heel and strutted away toward the line of small restaurants, her blond hair bouncing everywhere.

Melissa raised her chin and followed close behind. Allison still stood by my side, not following her friends yet. Her eyebrows were cocked and the corners of her pink lips turned down in a scowl.

"I'm sorry," she said breathlessly and looked apologetically up at me. "I don't know what's come over them. They're usually not like this. I've never seen them like this before, actually."

"Don't apologize. I understand." I didn't make eye contact. Being within a radius of twenty feet was nerve wracking, but standing this close to her was unbearable. I could get it over with and she wouldn't even have time to blink; I could be gone in five seconds. "I need to go, anyway."

"Oh, come on," she pleaded and stepped closer to me. "Please. I'm probably paying anyway, knowing them."

The fire was scorching my throat now and I swallowed back the venom pooling into my mouth. It didn't help to ease the burning one bit. I shut my eyes and leaned slightly away from her. "No, I have plans tonight," I lied, but she would never know. "I'm sorry."

Allison backed off and I opened my eyes a crack. "Oh. Okay. I guess I'll see you at school Monday?"

I turned abruptly and started walking away from her, my hand pressed to my nose and mouth. Waves of confusion rolled off her. I held the small circle of metal in my other hand, trying to not destroy it in my frustration. While it was unbearable to be so close to her, it was worse to leave her standing without an answer.

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**_Any one have a clue to what the metal circle in his hand? Anyone? Any guesses?_**

**_It's her bracelet:) _**

**_Review please!_**


	11. Chapter 9: Confusion and Hotdogs

_**Hey, everyone! School has been so crazy for me, I haven't been able to post pretty much anything. I've already been to two football games for band and band is hell for me. Long practices... sheesh. Well, here's the next chapter! Sorry to keep you waiting!**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Mrs. Meyer does, though I wish I did. That would be awesome...**_

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With my lips parted, I witnessed Jasper turn away and leave suddenly. I wanted to run after him and demand what his problem was, but I couldn't move my feet. My stomach was churning again, like I was going to get sick.

He had wrapped his hand around my wrist and his touch was so cool, and the way he didn't make eye contact with me . . .

"Allison? You coming?" Heather's voice brought me out of my hypnotized state of mind. I nodded and walked to her, my shoulder shrugging. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I mumbled. "Did Melissa save us a good table?"

Heather grinned. "The best one by the window."

I felt better after I ate. The view from where we sat was extraordinary: we could see the water illuminated by the lights of the little shops and restaurants. The smell of fresh Chinese food calmed me instantly, just the way I felt when Jasper called my name. No, I thought. He appeared like he didn't want anything to do with me anymore. But he was hard to forget, considering we had two classes together.

The three of us split the bill and walked back to the car. We passed Embry's bookstore, but the inside was pitch, signaling that he'd already left for the night. I moved the two dress bags aside as I got in the backseat and Melissa started the car. I brought my hand up to brush my hair away when I noticed my bracelet was not around my wrist. It was a cheap bracelet anyway, I thought glumly. It didn't matter much to me.

Melissa and Heather dropped me off at my house around eleven. I thanked them for letting me come along and shrugged up the front steps. My moment with Jasper had brought me down completely, leaving me wondering for the rest of the weekend and the many days that followed.

I was stuck alone in the house on another vacant Saturday. Mary was working today and my homework was already finished. For the past hour, I'd lied on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as my iPod blaring in my ears. It was odd: I couldn't get that night at Port Angeles off my mind. Did it only happen a few days ago? It seemed like weeks. Jasper had left so quickly then, leaving me on the boardwalk without an answer. It was starting to bug me.

There was another week until the Winter Formal. It was set for next Saturday and as the days crept closer, I found myself dreading it. It was impossible to believe that Melissa had talked me into going with her, just so I could do her makeup. But it was to help her snag a boyfriend, so I guess it wasn't all that bad if she got the guy in the end.

I peeked over at the growing stack of books in the corner of my room. It stood an inch or two shorter than me and most of them were past the due date. Sighing, I slid off the bed. That would give me something to do today. I yanked the ear phones from my ears and grabbed my keys from my dresser and turned to the monstrous stack of novels.

After ten minutes of marching up and down the stairs, carrying books in my arms, I'd finally loaded all the overdue novels in my car. The local library was only minutes from my house. It was literally the only place you could find a book in Forks besides the high school. The musty scent of ink and worn pages greeted me as I ducked into the library, away from the downpour that had just struck. The receptionist, Mrs. Burns, glanced up from her desk and smiled when she saw me.

"Hello, Allison," she said cheerily, despite the gloomy weather. I'd come so many times to the library since arriving in Forks the people who worked there knew me. One of the boys who worked in the back, Xavier, sometimes put aside books he thought I'd like; the receptionist called me by name every time I came in.

"Hey, Mrs. Burns," I replied and stacked the books I'd been able to carry in on the desk in front of her. With a few clicks she pulled up my account and began scanning the barcodes in the backs of the books. "Is Xavier in today?"

"Hell, yeah." Mrs. Burns glanced over her shoulder at the eager voice and rolled her eyes, looking down at her work. I smiled. "I'm always in."

"Sure you are," I said and laughed. Xavier read the computer screen over Mrs. Burns' shoulder at the list of books she was checking in for me. "Did you find any books for me?"

"God, you read a lot," he muttered under his breath. He looked up at me. "Yeah, I did, actually. They're great classics. Come on." He waved a hand at me and started off to the back. I followed close behind.

It was the first time I'd seen the back of any library. He pushed a door open, revealing a hallway with doors branching out. I assumed they were various offices. He led me back until we reached a small storage room stacked high with boxes. One was labeled "For Allison" in black marker.

Xavier was cute, but in a boyish way. His sandy brown hair was always a mess, like he'd gotten straight out of bed and came to the library, which was probably what happened. His eyes were a brighter blue than mine and glittered with excitement most of the time. Even though he was two years younger than me, he was several inches taller and I envied him for that.

"Okay," he mused and reached his hand into the box. "Don Quixote-"

"Read it," I blurted. He looked at me with a grim expression.

"Seriously?"

"Um, yeah," I confessed sheepishly. He muttered something and rummaged for another book.

"How about Gulliver's Travels?" he asked hopefully and held it out to me. I shook my head.

"Read it," I repeated. He rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"The Trial?" he said with the book in his hand. Before I could even say that I'd read it, he slumped his shoulders and placed it back in the box. We spent twenty more minutes in the storage room, going through several stacks of books in that box. Eventually, Xavier gave up with a huff and we returned to the front desk. Mrs. Burns was scanning the last book in.

"I swear, she's read the entire library," he complained and sat down in the roller chair in front of his computer. He clicked a few times and pulled up something, which was most likely a game of solitaire. I shrugged and retreated into the rain to get the remaining books in my car.

The wind had picked up and blew ferociously against my back, spreading my hair in front of me. My hands fumbled with the keys as I jammed them into the lock and pulled the door open. As I reached for the few books sitting in the passenger seat, a car horn sounded and I slammed my head against the roof. It sounded again and I pulled my head from the car, the books clutched in my arms.

There, in the middle of the road, was a bright orange car with half of its front fender missing. It was bright orange and old, probably manufactured in the 1970's or so. It pulled up, with a loud groan of the engine, into the parking space beside me. The driver rolled down the passenger side window.

"What are you doing standing in the rain?"

I bent and peered into the cab. "Embry?"

"The one and only," he beamed, his white teeth contrasting against his skin.

"What are you doing here?" I asked and yanked my jacket tighter around me to protect the books; the jacket wasn't meant for this kind of wind and rain.

"I should be asking you the same thing," he retorted and pushed open the passenger side door open for me. I slid in gratefully and closed the door, rolling up the window. It was warmer inside his car and the dashboard was littered with gum wrappers and magazines. A crackly old song played on the ancient radio.

"Returning some books," I answered and swiped one of the magazines. After flipping a few pages, I realized it was a car magazine. Assuming the rest were similar, I set it down. "What are you doing here?"

He gestured to the backseat, which was filled with white plastic bags. "Grocery shopping for Harry Clearwater. Leah's car isn't working well and Seth's too young to drive. Neither of them wanted to come with me, even in my car."

I nodded. "So you're pretty good friends with the Clearwaters?"

"Yeah, definitely. I think Harry considers me the son he always wanted," he sighed.

I narrowed my eyes. "But he has Seth," I pointed out, confused.

"I know," he replied, smiling.

I rolled my eyes. "What kind of car is this, anyway?" The cab smelled faintly of dirt and cigarette smoke; there was a hole in part of the backseat. The air conditioners were weak and the radio didn't get good reception, even when I flipped it to a few different stations.

"1970's Hemi Cuda," he explained matter-of-factly. "It was Harry's once and he tried to give it to Leah, but she didn't want it. Of course, I was next in line. I was getting tired of driving my mom's car everywhere anyway."

"Doesn't your dad have a car or something?" I asked and checked the due date in the back of one of the books. It was due over three weeks ago. I shrugged the thought off and looked at Embry. He quickly stared forward, his expression blank. "Embry?"

His eyebrows furrowed and his lips puckered. "I don't have a dad," he admitted, and his tone made me think he was just now realizing the fact.

"Oh, my gosh, Embry, I'm so sorry," I said quickly. "I didn't-"

"You didn't know," he said in the same monotone voice and shrugged his shoulders. "I've never known who my father was; my mom never told me." He leaned back against the seat and rested his hands in his lap. "There's a big rumor going around the reservation that I'm a half brother to either Sam, Jacob, or Quil."

I looked at him with confusion. "Who?"

His lips turned up in a slight smile. "My friends, Jacob Black, Quil Ateara, and Sam Uley. They go to school with me on the reservation. We've been friends since grade school."

"They sound nice," I commented and shifted the books in my lap. "I'd like to meet them sometime."

"You could, if you want to," he said and looked at me. "They're all down at La Push. They're getting ready for the big bonfire tonight. I could take you."

"Really?" I asked.

"Only if you had nothing else to do today, that is," he added.

I smiled and nodded eagerly. "Yeah, definitely. Let me just go turn these books in and I'll be right back." He returned the smile and I hopped from the car. While we talked, the rain seemed to lessen and it was only a light mist. With the books cradled in my arms, I rushed back into the library and stacked them on the desk before Xavier.

"More books?" he complained. "Why don't you just buy the whole damn library already? Or get a job here, at least. I've been working here for years and you seem to know this place better than I do." He grabbed the scanner and held it over one of the book's barcodes.

"I may have to pick you up on that offer," I said, considering the idea. "I could use a few extra bucks."

Xavier nodded and whipped out a stapled packet and pen, handing them to me. While he checked in the remaining books, I filled out the job application. I slid the packet across the desk to him ten minutes later and he nodded. He looked at me odd when I started walking toward the door.

"Aren't you going to stay for your first day of work?" he asked.

"I wish I could," I began, "but there's a friend waiting for me. He's taking me to the beach."

"He?" Xavier laughed and propped his elbows on the desk. "Is this like a date, or something?"

"We're just friends," I confirmed sternly.

"Whatever you say," he sung lamely and swiveled in his roller chair. I rolled my eyes and walked back out to the parking lot where Embry waited. He rolled down his window again.

"Let me take my car back to my house and we can go from there," I said and he nodded. Embry followed me through town in his bright orange car until we arrived at my house. After pulling my car into the driveway, I hopped into the passenger seat of his.

In minutes we were driving back through the town. The trees around us seemed to form a barrier around us as we left the town. Rain gently pattered on the windshield and filled up the silence between us. The road slowly faded into dirt and we arrived in front of a small house with a wooden front porch.

"Would you mind helping me out with these?" he asked and gestured to the bags. He slid from the car and grabbed four of the bags. I nodded and plucked the remaining ones from the car, catching up to him as he walked to the front door.

"So this is Seth and Leah's house?" I asked as he rapped sharply on door with his knuckles. The wood was worn from years of use and a small wind chime hung from the roof. Before he could reply, the door swung open to reveal a boy with scraggly black hair and tanned skin. He smiled when he saw Embry and directed it toward me. I returned it and followed Embry into the kitchen.

"Seth, this is Allison," Embry said. "Allison, this is Seth, Leah's younger brother."

"It's nice to meet you," I said kindly.

"Likewise," he said. "Embry's never brought home a girl before."

Embry's eyes went wide and there was a slight change in the color of his face. He opened his mouth to object when Seth protested,

"And Leah doesn't count!"

"We're just friends," I said between them.

"Sure you are," Seth called in a sing-song voice and walked out through the door. Embry placed his hand against his face and started unpacking the groceries from a bag. I joined him and proceeded in pulling out twelve packages of hot dogs.

"Why do you need so many of these?" I asked in awe, holding up one of the many packages. He shrugged and pulled out three containers of hamburger patties.

"We eat a lot at the bonfires," he stated simply.

The front door slammed and returned to the kitchen, a tall girl following close behind. Seth moved to one of the bags and unpacked it, putting things in the refrigerator. The girl brushed a lock of choppy black hair behind her ear and watched me with sharp brown eyes.

"Allison, this Leah Clearwater," Embry introduced. "Leah, this is Allison Rossi."

She smiled. "Good. I'm glad Embry finally got a girlfriend."

He sighed and buried his face in his hands to hide a red face. I turned to her and wadded up the plastic bag in my hands.

"Oh, I'm not—we're not—I mean, I'm not his girlfriend," I stuttered. "We're just friends."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "It's still nice to meet you. We haven't had another girl down here in who knows how long." She wiped her hands against her shorts, leaving thick black smudges. She used the back of her hand to clear the building sweat of her forehead. "Sorry, Jacob's been working on my car with me. The engine's not working well."

"Who's Jacob?" I asked, suddenly clueless.

"The mechanic," Embry mumbled and lifted his head.

"The annoying one," Leah amended.

"My best friend!" Seth cheered.

"Alright," I agreed.

Seth eagerly took my hand in his and led me out of the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder and saw Embry and Leah holding back laughter. Seth pulled me through the front door and down the steps. We walked around to the back of the house, where someone was shirtless and bent over a car engine, the hood flipped up.

"Hey, Jacob!" Seth called. "We've got-"

"Hand me that wrench," he interrupted when we got close enough. Leah and Embry followed close behind.

"But Jacob-"

"Seth. Just hand me the wrench," he ordered again. "I'm not really in the position to chat until I tighten this bolt."

Seth rolled his eyes and sighed, dropping my hand and snatching the wrench from a wooden bench with a tool box. Jacob groped blindly for it and, once securing his hand around it, twisted it a few times around something in the engine. We waited for a few minutes before he finally emerged and slammed the hood down.

"There you go, Leah," he huffed and smeared black oil on his shorts with his hands. Seth tossed him a gray rag, probably used several times before now. "Your car should be working now."

"Thanks, Jacob," she sighed. "I owe you."

"Yeah. You do."

"Are you going to say hi to our guest or not?" Seth cut in, standing by my side. Even though he was young, he was tall and his chin could rest on my shoulder. Jacob was far taller, however. He seemed almost Jasper's height, maybe taller. His hair was long and black and in slight waves, longer than Embry's. He donned the same cocoa colored skin as everyone else and I felt abnormally pale.

"Jacob Black," he said and stuck his hand out. I met it with my own and his was surprisingly warm.

"Allison Rossi," I introduced. When I pulled my hand back, it was faintly smeared with black oil. Jacob apologized and tossed me the rag. Leah walked around him to inspect her car. It was an old, red Mustang that must've seen some serious action on the road. The doors were dotted with dents and the paint was terribly scratched. One of the front headlights was shattered.

"Are you a friend of Leah's or something?" Jacob asked as he packed away all of the metal tools and latched the tool box. Embry looked at him.

"She's my friend," he said quickly.

Jacob bit his lip. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I brought her over for the bonfire tonight, if you don't mind." He slightly clipped his words at the end.

Jacob held his hands up defensively. "I don't mind at all. Just ask Sam. He'll be the one to get on your ass, not me. I personally think it's nice to have another girl around here."

"Me, too," Leah piped up.

"Of course you do. You're surrounded by guys 24/7."

She rolled her eyes and examined the back. She leaned her hand on the truck when the fender popped off and clattered to the ground with a metallic clank. She swore under her breath and withdrew her hand, her eyes narrowing.

"Jacob?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah, sure, sure," he drawled and searched through his toolbox for a hammer. "But now you owe me even more."

"I know," she sighed and looked up at me, rolling her eyes. I smiled.

"Have you guys seen Sam around here?" Embry asked. "I want to ask him if Allison can stay for tonight."

"He's busy," came a voice from behind. "Unfortunately, he won't be able to make it tonight."

We turned to see a boy about Embry's age walking toward us, his hair in tight brown curls against his head and a bright smile against his face. He nodded in my direction.

"Who's this?" he asked, his voice light. He eyed me up and down with sparkling brown eyes.

"Embry's girlfriend," Jacob called before neither Embry nor I could speak. He, Leah, and Seth burst into a rage of laughter. Both Embry and I went pink.

"It's about time," the boy sighed.

"That's cool," I said as soon as the heat left from my cheeks. "So you have a girlfriend too?"

The boy pursed his lips and my statement caused another howl of laughter from the trio behind us. He scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Quil?" Embry gasped as he stopped chuckling. "Have a girlfriend? Nice joke."

"I'm Allison," I introduced quickly before anyone could say anything else.

"I'm Quil Ateara," the boy said back and stuck his hand out for a shake. I met it with mine. "So seriously. You're not his girlfriend?"

"No," I said, smiling. "We're just friends."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Darn. You make a good couple."

Embry coughed in disbelief and I pressed my tongue to my cheek. We looked to each other, laughing. Quil looked from me to him and back, probably weighing us out together. It was impossible to see me with Embry; we were only friends.

"Dude, get your vision checked or something," Embry complained lamely and made a swipe at Quil's head. Before I knew it, Quil had gotten Embry in a headlock and was rolling across the ground with him, sending up plumes of dust. I backed up and batted the dirt away from my face.

"Do they always do this?" I called back to Leah.

"All the time," she answered.

The bonfire sent off waves of heat and crackled tremendously and I pulled my hair back in a pony tail. I sat on a wide long that was positioned to the side of the fire. More logs were pulled together to form a large circle and people I'd never met milled around me, chattering above the roar of the fire.

Some looked at me odd, but I pulled out my phone and checked the time, just to keep my eyes and hands busy. It had gotten dark in the few hours I'd been down on the reservation. Before the sun went down, however, Embry had walked the length of the beach with me and back as we talked about things and waited for the bonfire to begin. Now I sat alone, waiting for him to get back.

As I scrolled tiredly through my inbox, Leah plopped down next to me. After she'd cleaned up prior to working on her car with Jacob, her skin was much clearer. Her deep brown eyes glittered in the light of the fire.

"You should seriously start coming down more often," she mentioned as she pulled a bag of marshmallows into her lap, followed by a long wire. She speared one on the wire and stuck it in the growing flame before us.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't think I'd have enough time to, considering school and all . . ." She nodded thoughtfully and yanked her marshmallow out, blowing on it. "But I'll definitely come during the summer when I'm not working."

"You work?" she asked as she whipped up two graham crackers and a square of chocolate.

"At the library in my town," I said. "I actually just got the job today."

"Does it pay well?"

"I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see."

Leah smashed the marshmallow and chocolate between the crackers, the chocolate melting and slipping over the edges of the crackers. She licked her lips hungrily and, before taking a bite, looked to me.

"You want one?" she asked. She held the bag of s'mores ingredients out to me.

"Oh, sure." I pocketed my phone and took the bag from her, pulling together a s'more within minutes. The chocolate was sweet on my tongue and I smiled happily, licking a dab off the corner of my mouth.

Embry sat down on my left holding two plates loaded with hamburgers and chips and hotdogs. He sat one down in my lap and started on his own. I swallowed.

"Geez, I can't eat this much," I exclaimed and examined the food. There were two hotdogs, two hamburgers, and the plate nearly overflowed with chips. "I could barely eat half of it."

"And that's why I will be splitting it with you," Leah said and reached over to grab a hotdog and a handful of chips. "Embry forgets that you're a girl and therefore don't have as big an appetite as everyone else. He does that with me all the time. Even Seth eats more than me and he's only fourteen." She took a bite.

"How old are you?" I asked and tossed a chip in my mouth. My lip stung suddenly and I realized I'd been biting my lip so hard, it began to bleed. I sucked on the wound and waited for her answer as she swallowed.

"Eighteen," she answered as soon as her mouth was empty. "Embry says we're the same age."

I nodded. "We are."

The rest of the bonfire went smoothly. Leah and I talked most of the time as Embry ate his weight in grilled foods and mingled with everyone. I never left my seat except to get a bottle of water from a nearby cooler. It was just a get together with everyone on the reservation.

I did recognize Harry Clearwater off in the distance with a short woman, talking with a man in a wheelchair. I was baffled until Jacob Black leaned a hand on his wheelchair and there was a resemblance between them. A girl sat on the other side of the fire from Leah and I and I saw her faintly through the flickering flames. Leah didn't seem too happy with the girl, as she glared at her from time to time but never said anything about her.

Then, as the fire began to die down, my phone vibrated in my pocket several times. I excused myself and walked a ways before picking up.

"Allison?" a voice cried before I could even say hello. "Are you there?"

Then it hit me. I'd never called Mary and told her I was coming, and it was sure to be almost nine or ten at night.

"Yes," I sighed, "I'm here, Mom."

"Thank goodness! I saw your car in the driveway at home, but you weren't in the house, so I-"

"I know," I cut her off. "I should've called you earlier. I'm with Leah and Embry right now. We're down at the reservation on the beach at a bonfire."

"A bonfire?" she repeated. "What are you doing there?"

I twirled a lock of hair around my finger. "Well, I met two of Embry's friends and we're just talking. Leah's dad grilled hamburgers for us and we've been making s'mores for the past hour."

"Good," she sighed, relieved. "I'm glad you're with Leah and Embry, but I'd rather you come home right now. It's really dark and I don't feel safe with you out there."

"Mom, it's just-"

"I know you're with your friends," she argued, "but I'm a mom and I feel naturally protective of you. I'd really rather you come home, please."

"Okay," I mumbled and disconnected the call without her reply. I walked back over to Leah as she was in the process of smearing chocolate across Seth's face. It nearly blended in with his skin. "Hey, I've got to go," I reported glumly.

"Aw," she whined. "That's too bad. Well, come down some time. We'd love to have you again." It surprised me when she hugged me tightly.

I placed my hand hesitantly on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I will." I smiled, ruffled Seth's hair, and set off to find Embry, as he was my ride home. He was talking to two burly boys, both with jet black hair and matching skin color.

With a quick examination of them, I turned to Embry saying, "Hey, my mom wants me home. Could you drive me again?"

He downed a mouthful of water and wiped his hand across his mouth. "Sure. Come on. I'll see you guys later," he said to me, and then to the boys. The two boys nodded in understanding and eyed me eagerly. Embry grabbed my hand and we headed up the hill to his car with me glancing back at the roaring fire and mysterious friends.

Days passed. I painfully found myself counting down the days on the calendar as it grew closer. Soon, I lingered on the day of the Formal. It was like the summer heat you couldn't escape, so you just had to endure the long months of it. I winced as I pulled on the dress I picked out, gleaming in the lamplight, and sighed facing the mirror. After a few rotations in front of the shiny surface, I made my way to the bathroom to apply a bit of makeup. There was a trill of excitement running through me; maybe I'd have fun or something interesting would happen.

I laughed. No way.

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**_Reviews are nice! :)_**


	12. Chapter 10: Bad News

**_Goodness gracious! I just realized I haven't posted anything in one whole month! :O That's so incredible! Like, the bad kind of incredible. I've been busy with band and school and most of my previous readers probably won't be interested anymore. But here's the tenth chapter, just for those readers that stuck around:)_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, I'm merely borrowing the characters for my own plot. But Allison Danielle Rossi is MY character. Steal her and you die. Like, I'll beat your brains and toss you around like puppies against the floor until I see your innards like Ployphemus did to Odysseus' men in The Odyssey._**

**_LOLJK :D_**

**_Enjoy!

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The school was covered in small twinkling lights, giving the appearance of glowing snowflakes caught on the bricks on the night of the Winter Formal. In one corner of the lot, there was a gleaming white stretch limo with four couples unloading and holding hands, laughing merrily. I sat in the front seat of my car, watching people enter the school and listening to a classical music station on the radio.

Between tonight and when Jasper saved me in Port Angeles—that was the only way I could see it—he hadn't uttered a single word to me. He didn't take note of me in Physics. He finished his worksheet quicker than usual, turned it in, and slumped in his chair with a thick novel in his hand. His head was down, but his eyes weren't focused on the words; he was positioned away from me always.

I had tried to question him lightly, but he wasn't responsive and only told me, "I'll explain it later." I was still waiting for later, and it hadn't come.

History was equally unbearable. I'd caught Jasper staring at me almost in disgust several times, but neither of us made the move to talk as we moved past each other for supplies. I didn't understand what I'd done wrong. I didn't think I did anything to make him so upset like that.

My phone rang beside me in the passenger seat, pulling me out of my flashback, and I reached over to answer it without glancing at the caller ID.

"Hello?" I said dully into the receiver, watching people walk past my car in elegant attire.

"Hey," replied a nasally, high pitched voice. "It's Melissa."

"Hey. What's up?" Her tone worried me.

"I'm not going to be able to make it tonight," she answered. Her voice was weighed down by something, and she paused to blow her nose in the background.

"What? Why not?" We'd spent weeks preparing for one night; I'd even fished out a silver dress coated in glitter and lace from my closest to go to a festive dance, and she called at the last minute to cancel.

She sniffled on the other end. "Allison, my mom was killed."

My heart dropped and I sat up. Was this some sort of joke? But I couldn't really ask her that . . . "What happened?"

Now it sounded like she was sobbing and it was hard for her to answer. "I . . . I don't know. I-I'll call you back later." She hung up. I sat back and sighed. Things were not going well. There was a sudden rap on my window and I looked up. It seemed to get worse when Jasper Hale motioned for me to open my door.

"It's a surprise to see you here," he said smugly when I'd shakily gotten out of my car. I had to tilt my head back quite a ways to see his eyes; I was about four or five inches shorter than he was. We were extremely close, standing between my car and another parked car. I swallowed. His bronze eyes flashed in the light.

"So?" I finally said.

"You don't seem like the one to come to a dance," he mentioned.

"Neither do you," I replied quickly and looked away at the rest of the parking lot.

I rubbed my hands up and down my arms quickly to keep warm; I hadn't even thought to bring a jacket. My ghostly breath appeared between us like a cloud as I exhaled. It was maybe forty or fifty degrees out here, but it wouldn't be much better in the gym. They always kept it like an ice box in there.

"Why aren't you inside?" he asked. His breath brushed against my face and it was sweet smelling, as if he'd just finished sucking on hard candy. Actually, his clothes smelled like that, too. Not that I noticed it every day, though . . . "It's awfully cold out."

"Maybe I just like sitting in my car," I snapped. "That's none of your business anyway." I placed a hand on the door and yanked it open. He waited until I was fully inside and ready to slam the door in his face to grab the handle.

"Excuse me," I growled, "would you please remove your hand from my car door? I'd like to go home."

"Why?" His innocence humored me and I chuckled. He didn't seem to notice and continued. "You just got here, it seems. You're going to miss all the fun."

"The only fun I'll be missing is _American Idol_ if I don't leave." Sure, this was a lie—I didn't even watch _American Idol—_but this boy was really starting to get on my last nerve. I sighed and tried to keep myself calm. _Don't draw any unnecessary attention to yourself._

But there was nothing to keep me calm.

Just looking at him reminded him of my brother. Flawless, creamy skin, sparkling eyes, magnetic personality. I wanted to tell someone about my brother, even if it was him, the one I wanted to run from, but at the same time, didn't. He would understand, wouldn't he?

"Come on, Allison." Jasper's voice hinted pleading. "You're graduating this year, so this is your only Winter Dance at Forks High School." He thought for a moment when I scowled. "Would you do it for me?"

No. Never mind. He wouldn't. _It would be a waste of my time to tell him. He wouldn't understand anything. He's a guy._

I couldn't tear my eyes away from his. They were a mysterious dark gold; the lights hanging on the school reflected in them. My head swirled with dizziness and I gripped the steering wheel. I forced the corners of my lips down in a straight line.

"But I don't have a date," I argued and locked my eyes forward. Students filed in through the front pair of double doors where the main office was. "Nor will I find one at this time," I added sharply.

"Would you like to be my date?" he asked. Even with my eyes turned forward, I could tell he was watching me.

I glanced up to see his eyes studying me closely, almost with hope. I felt the urge to look away, but my anxious rubbed away slowly. My expression smoothed into something calm and my hands dropped from the steering wheel to my lap. My heartbeat slowed to a normal pace, even though I was only yards away from my worst fear.

Every word that meant 'no' bubbled up on my lips, but what came out shocked me. "Um, sure."

He flashed a satisfied smile and offered me his hand. His touch was much cooler than the outside air, forcing me to shudder. I felt utterly out of place next to him; he was tall and perfect. I, on the other hand, was about 5'6" and zits were starting to sprout on my hairline. I self-consciously brushed my bangs over my forehead.

There was an air around me that made me feel lighter than a feather and I couldn't feel my feet touch the ground, though I knew I was walking. I faintly heard my car door shut and lock, and Jasper's hand rummaging in the purse hanging from my shoulder. I jumped back, clutching it in my hands.

"What are you doing in my purse?"

He rolled his eyes. "Putting your keys back. It's your fault you gave them to me in the first place. Now come on; stop being so anxious." _But when had I voluntarily given him my car keys_? That part confused me.

The idea quickly dropped from my thoughts. The tension in my face fell and I walked after him as he led the way to the main doors. Like a gentleman, he held the door open for me. I didn't know how to respond to that, so I scooted inside. The hallways were toasty warm and wonderful compared to the cold front outside. Other couples, just arriving, pushed in behind us and hurried to the gym door. When they opened it, the thick bass rang in my ears and caused the floor to hum.

"Shall we?" he asked. He offered me his snowy white hand. I scoffed at him and starting walking. I should've walked the other way, but I didn't. He trailed close behind me. As he followed me down the hall, it was like being stalked by a lion with sharp teeth and the pleasure to kill. He made me nervous just walking behind me. I didn't know what I was thinking when I'd agreed to do this, but I was regretting every second of it now.

I had been calm around him and every fear was washed away. But now, as I walked farther and farther in front of him, those fears flooded back, sending my heart rate into a fit. My subconscious screamed at me to stop and back pedal out to my car and go home to forget this night, but my feet moved forward at a steady pace. _What was wrong with me?_

I shakily yanked open the door to the gym and was greeted by the blaring vibration of the DJ and the atrocious chatter of students around us. Jasper gently nudged me in the back with his hand and I flinched. His cool touch sent shivers up my spine.

I moved instantly to the sidelines, watching the couples dance in little circles. The bass pounded and it seemed more like a night club than a formal. It was all dizzying.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked hopefully, suddenly standing by me. His shoulder brushed mine and I took a step to the side.

"No," I snapped.

"Allison?"

"What?" I turned to look at him.

He shook his head. "I assume, guessing from your horrendous attitude, you're opposed to mistletoe." He gestured to the sprigs of the plant that were taped around the gym on the walls.

"No," I said immediately. "No, no, no. There is no possible way I'm kissing you, of all people, if that's what you're thinking." I crossed my arms over my chest and turned away. How could he even think of such an idea? I didn't even know him well enough! It wasn't like I know him enough to . . . actually _like _him. The idea made me shudder and the anxious feeling came back.

"You have the worst attitude of any person I've ever met." He spoke each word slowly. "It's incredible. I didn't know someone could be so sour."

"Sour?" I scoffed and tried to keep my eyes on other things besides him. "You just don't know me."

"I'd like to get to know you," he said harshly, "but it's so hard to when you snap at me all the time. It's difficult to even get a decent conversation out of you."

"You're getting one out of me right now, unfortunately," I pointed out. He swallowed uncomfortably, defeated. He stared out at the dancing couples, the guys holding their dates' hands. His gorgeous siblings were in center stage. Well, at least Emmett and Rosalie were.

Rosalie donned a seductive red gown, strapless, that shimmered in the light. Emmett looked charming in his simple black tux. They appeared to me as from the 1940's, their dancing style, their clothing. Rosalie glided across the laminate dance floor with ease as Emmett twirled her and a smile appeared on her painted lips.

While they were in the spot light, Edward and Bella were on the outskirts of the group, dancing slowly. Bella pulled off a stunning midnight blue tiered dress with a tan shawl, intricately sewn with small glass beads. From the ankles up she appeared enticing. However, the blue converse she wore almost took away from her look. Edward was alluring in his tux, similar to Emmett. He held Bella as they shifted back and forth. Their heads were pressed together as if they were talking.

All of it made me feel sick to my stomach and I covered my mouth with my hand. It was all coming back, and I didn't want to get sick or start crying in front of Jasper and the entire student body. I knew it was coming sometime or another, even though it had disappeared temporarily. Without a goodbye, I turned on my heel and pushed around Jasper, through the double doors and into the hallway. My flats shuffled against the tile, soon accompanied by the clicking of Jasper's shoes.

Every step I took away from the gym made me feel slightly better. It was all going away behind me and that was good. But his voice that echoed to my ears was not.

"Why are you leaving?" he asked. Even though he spoke softly, it seemed to echo against the lockers and bombard me. The fierce, biting wind attacked me the moment I opened the double doors to the parking lot. I bit my cheek and watched my feet with every step.

"Allison," he called, a warning in his tone.

"Jasper," I mocked in a high-pitched voice and whipped around. "Can't I just go home?"

"You've barely been here for fifteen minutes," he pointed out. I ignored him and kept walking.

"Allison," he called once more. His voice was more urgent. "It's freezing. Come back inside."

"I just want to go home!" I shouted. My voice cracked horribly and I dabbed at my eyes with my fingers. They came back a watery black.

"Are you crying?" His face was soft and for a moment, I let him come within ten feet of me, though I wanted to do nothing but run, even in flat shoes. "Why are you crying?" He took a few more cautious steps as shook my head. I felt his hand on my shoulder and I cringed. He said words that I couldn't hear very well and his finger traced the skin under my eye.

I was about to answer him when a loud squeal interrupted me. Jasper and I glanced up. A pair of light zigzagged across the parking lot. A large van swung into view and bumped into a nearby car before heading straight on. I didn't realize what had happened until it happened.

A force slapped me down on the icy concrete and I used my elbows to catch myself. I heard a crunch, like an aluminum can being squished under a car's tire or against a jerk's forehead. Glancing up, I expected to see nothing but darkness, pitch, but I saw Jasper's face, twisted up in fear. His jaw was tightened, taut like a bow. His hand was firmly planted against the car's metal roof in a hand-shaped dent, his other wrapped around my waist.

I couldn't talk. My vocal cords were malfunctioning. The breath was knocked from my chest and I was lost for words. Jasper, with terrified eyes, looked from the car to me. When I blinked, he was gone, like a puff of smoke.

No one saw or heard anything, no one rushed through the double doors to see the over-turned car in the middle of the parking lot before a senior on the ground. Not even the driver, who appeared to be unconscious in his seat. Everyone was in that gym dancing their asses off while I was stuck in the freezing temperatures with an unresponsive driver! I was the only witness . . . except Jasper. He saw everything that happened! He saved my life!

Hopefully the driver would remember, too.

My hands trembled as I dialed the hospital, calling for an ambulance, realizing no one will. I stuttered a few words to the woman on the other end and clicked it shut. A pang shot through my elbows and it pained me to move them anymore.

Crickets chorused me in chirps as I examined Jasper's dent in the roof of the car. There was no way a regular person could stop a speeding car with one hand. It was impossible.

The windshield, I found, was spattered with blood and I covered my mouth, my eyes welling a little. Investigating, I took a closer look through the cracked glass. When I couldn't make out anything, I opened the driver's side door.

I nearly screamed and actually lost my balance, stumbling to the ground again. Scooting away, I tried to stand on my feet. The roof was punched in deeply, the glass from the windows scattered across the inside of the car. In the driver's seat, with bloody gashes in his forehead, was Conner. His football was in the passenger seat, a shard of glass sticking out of it and tucked under a Sports Illustrated magazine. This added a whole new wave of nostalgia to my already uneasy stomach.

The wails of the ambulance grew louder until it was in the parking lot beside me. A man jumped from the cab and came to me when I started to hyperventilate. He led me to the back of the truck, where he allowed me to lay down and handed me a glass of water. I kept glancing frantically back to the car, but eventually took the glass with my shaking hands.

I downed it in one gulp and started giggling, a hiccup sort of sound. The man patted my shoulder, trying to calm me down, but I couldn't stop. He laid a hand across my forehead and grabbed a bottle of pills from a white bag.

"Swallow these," he advised. "They'll bring your temperature down."

I giggled a thank you and nearly choked on them as I laughed and swallowed. He jumped out from the cab again and unfolded a gurney. A woman in a crisp white uniform helped him and they rolled it out of my sight.

I ran over the scene in my mind. Jasper pushed me out of the way. He dented Conner's van with his hand. It was purely impossible. I giggled again, a sign that I was possibly in shock, but it all ran out of me when I saw Conner lifted in the ambulance next to me. His eyes were opened a sliver, his chest moving up and down slowly.

"Hey," he breathed. "Sorry 'bout that..." His head fell back and I thought he was gone. The wires now connected to his arm showed he was still alive, but just barely. His tan face was covered with scars and blood and his silk black suit that used to look divine was ripped at the sleeves. They were also tainted with crimson blood. The cab smelled like its sharp metallic scent, making me wrinkle my nose.

The ambulance bounced as it sped to the hospital. Conner's head wiggled on every bounce and gave my stomach a nauseated feeling, like I could lose it any second.

We stopped at a drop-off center at the Forks hospital and Conner's gurney was rushed to through two automatic doors and rolled down a hall. The man who aided me before took my hand and helped me from the cab. By now, the pain in my elbows has simmered from the pain pills.

We walked down the clean white halls, smelling hints of blood along the way. He opened the door to a small white room and I slung my arm around his shoulder to keep from tumbling.

I sat on an elevated couch with no arms and lazily swung my legs back and forth, to and fro. The man wrapped a pouch around my elbow, testing my blood pressure. He then shined a light in my eyes and recorded it on a clipboard. He told me I could watch TV, if I would like, and left the room. He said that the doctor would be in as soon as possible.

As the door clicked, I snatched the remote from the counter by the sink and almost collapsed, still woozy from shock, and flicked a switch. MTV was playing, as tonight was a small award show. I didn't know what award show they were talking about, but I watched anyway.

I waited for an hour or so before a knock rapped at the door and I jumped. A man in a crisp white coat and platinum blonde hair entered the room, removing red elastic gloves and disposing of them under the sink in a trash can. Somehow I thought those weren't gloves you buy already colored.

"Hello . . . Allison," he read from a clipboard. "I'm Doctor Cullen."

"Cullen?" I asked. Where had I heard that before? "Your kids go to the same school I do."

"Really?" he asked, fuming over words on my document. "How's Rosalie?"

Rosalie? Right, the blonde one. "I don't know. I don't have classes with her."

He nodded and flipped papers on the clipboard, stopping at random pages and scribbling things down. "The nurse told me what happened," he said. "It sounded bad. The other boy is in treatment right now."

"It would've been worse if Jasper hadn't been there," I replied quickly.

Dr. Cullen stared at me with confusion, partly with interest, as he flipped between pages. He reached behind him for a short stool and sat down.

"You must be seeing things, Allison," he suggested. "The nurse did also tell me you were in shock. Jasper was here, at the hospital. He declined on going to that . . ." He searched for the right word.

"Formal," I supplied.

"Thank you. He said something about not having a date."

I couldn't come up with a statement to prove he was wrong, partly because I was too sleepy and maybe because he started rambling on about my being in shock, describing what I should do for it. He checked my eyes again with the small flashlight, like the nurse did. He shook his head, not a white-blonde hair falling out of place.

"We called your mother to tell her you were here, if she might've gotten worried," he said. He pressed his hand to my forehead and scribbled something down on his clipboard once more. "She's on her way up. Your car, I presume, is still at the school, correct?"

"Yes, my car is at the school," I replied. "So Jasper _is _here?"

Dr. Cullen thought about his question, about the whereabouts of his son. "Yes, I think he's on the roof, or maybe the greenhouse. He spends a lot of his time up there."

"Good. I need to talk to him," I said. The sound of his name sent shivers up my spine. "And greenhouse, sir?"

"Plants have medical purposes. They're very helpful," he explained. "Should I call someone to show you? Do you feel well enough to walk?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I declined. "I'll find it." I didn't want anyone there when I talked to Jasper, going along the lines that he even wanted to talk to me.

Dr. Cullen allowed me to exit the room grudgingly. I walked down the halls and located a map of fire exits tacked to the wall. I decided to check the greenhouse first. Taking the elevator, I moved up to the last and top floor. To the left, the stairs to the roof. To the right, the stairs to the greenhouse. I walked right and nearly tripped up the stairs.

The door of the greenhouse was a wavy sea green and creaked opened with ease. Plants hung in pots from the ceiling and sat on large metal table, bursting with exotic leaves and odd colored flowers. I called out Jasper's name once or twice, my voice echoing back to me. When I didn't receive a reply after a few minutes, I opted for the roof.

My feet creaked on the stairs as I walked up the stairs and pushed the door open. My heart started to flutter again and my stomach felt like an opened cage of wild butterflies. I was greeted by a cold breeze, but walked directly into it when I spotted Jasper leaning over the edge, peering down at the highway. The growing wind ruffled our hair.

"Hey," I addressed him, my voice cracking. I reached up and rubbed my neck and cleared my throat awkwardly. Jasper didn't turn at the sound of my voice like he usually did. I tried again. "I'm okay. No broken bones. Of course you would know, but . . ."

I trailed off, my mind somewhere else. But then I remembered what I came up here for.

"You were fast," I whispered, my voice carried off by the wind. Jasper nodded, still not facing me. "Really fast. You stopped that van with your bare hand, you pushed it away. How did you do that?"

"No one's going to believe you if you tell them," he muttered sharply.

This shocked me. "I-I wasn't going to tell anyone," I stuttered. "I just want to know."

"Can't you just thank me and drop the subject?" he asked. He turned to me and his eyes pierced mine. They were darker than they had been at the Formal only hours ago, but just slightly. As his eyes trailed over me, I glanced away, observing the cars zoom by below us nervously. The lights bounced off the buildings.

"Thank you," I said. "Thank you for saving me."

"And you could also thank me for the other incident," he added.

"Thank you," I repeated. "And you never told me about that one, by the way."

"You're not going to let any of this go, are you?" Humor mixed with his voice and, from the corner of my eye, I saw him smile faintly.

"It's going to be hard to," I admitted. I bit my lip to keep a smile back. "But . . ."

"What?"

"I know what I saw. You were there. You were . . ." I was going to say he'd been with me when he wiped my tears, but that would be embarrassing to say aloud. "There. You pushed the van out of the way. No normal person could do that."

"I only pulled you out of the way," he said, his tone dead serious. "You were seeing things."

"No. You pushed the van out of the way," I repeated more sternly. "You made a dent in Conner's van, for crying out loud! With your hand!"

"Allison," he criticized. "Please."

"No! Why?"

"You just have to trust me on this," he spoke softly. He was standing so close that I could feel his breath wash over my face. His voice was quiet and overwhelming. I looked up at him. The bridge of his nose was mere inches from mine and he leaned back a little.

"But you have to promise you'll explain everything to me later."

"Fine," he sighed, exasperated.

"Fine," I repeated.

We scowled at each other in silence. I felt like crying suddenly and turned my head away from him. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him.

"Why did you even bother?" I asked icily, still not looking at him. "Why didn't you just let the van crush me?"

"I don't know," he whispered. He muttered something more inaudible.

He took my hand in his and slid something cold and smooth into my palm. He turned his back on me and walked away, sealing himself behind the door. I pried my fingers open. My bracelet, the one with the cross charm, gleamed back at me.


	13. Chapter 11: Odd Behavior

**_Sorry for not posting in a while! I've had a pretty busy month. Next week I go to San Antonio for a band competition, so no updating then. I feel like a bad author for not updating in a while -.- this chapter is a little boring, I'm sorry to say, and there's a whole lot of the story left to post. I just haven't gotten to posting in a while. I hope you can bear this chapter, because I almost died writing it XD_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, though I wish I did, but I do own Allison Danielle Rossi, so don't use her in any of your stories!

* * *

_**

"I can't believe it!" Mary complained as we drove to fetch my car from the school. "You try to have one peaceful night at a dance and you almost get killed! It's incredible!"

"It wasn't my fault, Mom," I soothed. "The van didn't even touch me. I'm fine."

"That's the part I don't get," she mused. "How could a van hurtle straight at you, and you end up not getting a single scratch? It's incredible."

I stayed silent.

She dropped me off at the school and I picked up my car to follow her home.

While I slept, the girl cackled and lifted my forearm to her nose. Inhaling, she sighed with great delight. She muttered a few quick words that I couldn't catch before biting through the skin. It sent a wave of shock and pain through me, and I screamed.

Mary woke me.

For several days in a row, it was hell. Nightmares dominated my mind at night; Jasper's odd behavior captured my attention during the day. For days on end, he smiled faintly at me in the hallways when we passed. The next day he was a completely different person and wouldn't speak a word to me, much less look at me.

My nights were horrible, sometimes sending waves of panic through my stomach that usually ended in me retching in the bathroom.

_The nightmares came again. The girl with the long hair pranced around the graveyard with red fingertips and sung a mournful song with her perfect voice. Meanwhile, I crouched against a stone, hiding from her, trying to caress my wounds. I had escaped from her torture once, and she was searching for me._

_Her voice twirled around my ears and I clapped bloody hands over them, shutting off the noise. But I felt the grass bend as she discovered my hiding place and tiptoed toward me; my heart beat like a drum and wanted to explode from my chest. A scraping noise came from above my head and—_

"Ali! Ali!" a worried voice called. "Wake up!"

Mary was by my side, by my bed, sandwiching my hands in hers. Her face was full of concern and dread. Light filled the cracks in my shutters and drew lines on the floor. Murky, gray lines, which meant the same gloomy clouds.

"I'm fine, Mom," I assured. My voice cracked on the last word, as I wasn't used to calling her 'mom.' "Just a bad dream."

"Another one?" She stood up and straightened her skirt. "This is . . . what? The fourth or fifth one this week? I'm getting worried, Allison."

"I'm fine," I repeated. "I just need to stop being stressed from classes."

Mary accepted this and galloped reluctantly down the stairs to the kitchen. I walked to the closet and dressed for school. When I arrived in the kitchen, Mary handed me a few granola bars and my bag. I bid her farewell with a yawn and walked out the door.

When I stepped into the school, people crowded the halls in large masses, buzzing like a hive of bees. It seemed finally that Conner's accident had gotten out. I spotted Heather by the cafeteria in full out tears.

"Hey," I greeted. "You okay?"

She sucked in a breath. "Did you not hear what happened to Conner? It's horrible!"

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that," I stuttered. "It was pretty bad?"

The image of Conner, bruised and bleeding in the front seat, came to mind. The way he barely breathed was etched in my mind. There was no way I was letting her know about this.

"It was just horrible!" she wailed and sighed.

"Where's Melissa?" I asked, hoping to get her to calm down a little.

"Did you not hear about that, either?" Her eyes widened at me.

"Um, I don't think so."

"Her mom was killed on a hiking trip this past week by some kind of animal." She sniffed and pulled a tissue from her purse. "She's at her funeral in Boston."

My jaw popped a little as it dropped. Then I vaguely remembered Melissa mentioning that to me the night of the Formal. "That's terrible. Do you know what kind of animal?"

Heather shrugged. "She didn't know; her dad said it attacked both him and her mom, but he didn't see what it was." She paused to blow her noise again. "It was just like he blinked, and she was dead on the ground. Things just don't happen like that."

"They don't," I agreed solemnly. "I guess it's just you and me until Melissa gets back and Conner gets out of the hospital."

She nodded and I walked her to first period as the bell rang.

I sat down in Physics, brought down by the sudden news of Melissa's mother's death. The class period went quickly as we reviewed over chapter eight. I peeked up from my book occasionally to look beside me, just to check. Jasper was not here.

Photography was a let-down without Melissa talking to me over her seat. Because of her absence, I was able to read what was written on the board. Photography then led into Gym, which was a nightmare. My ears glowed bright red when I hit a girl on the back of the head with a volleyball. I entered the cafeteria and my eyes instantly swept the room for him. The table was empty. I worked on my History report without Conner. I was thankful when the bell released us at the end of the day.

The week repeated just so until Friday.

I approached the school that morning and found a parking spot in the very front. As I stepped out, the clouds parted, letting a beam of light surround the school. I narrowed my eyes.

Heather located me by my car, fuming with tears in her eyes about Conner, as he was still in critical condition at the hospital. "I didn't even get to dance with him!" she complained. "Oh, I wonder when he'll be back . . ."

It took her a while before she noticed that I wasn't paying attention to her babble on. My eyes were locked on the shiny silver Volvo that drove smoothly into the parking lot. Edward drove the car, glaring at me with piercing bronze eyes as he passed. Bella waved hesitantly at me through the window; I returned the wave out of politeness.

"Hello? Did you hear what I said?" Heather stepped in front of me and cut off my view of the family.

"Um, something about Conner?" I guessed.

She laughed. "No, about Melissa. I think you need to get your hearing checked. You're going deaf." I laughed weakly along with her. The bell sounded and we separated and traveled on to our different classes. I hope someone was there with a tissue box for Heather. I smiled at the thought and walked into Physics.

I froze on the threshold. Jasper sat in his usual seat next to mine, his head buried in a book. He turned in his seat slightly to face me as I sat down. He smiled curtly before turning back to the novel in his hands. I didn't know what to make of it.

"I want-" I started.

Mrs. Minora shushed me and the tardy bell rang. I slumped back in my seat with Jasper's curious eyes watching me.

I moved on to Photography and Gym without Melissa's company. At lunch, Heather and I ate in silence; I looked up occasionally to see Heather blowing her nose. I didn't mention anything to her, just to keep her from crying or carrying on. She was pretty when she didn't cry.

I tried to not stare at Jasper during History. It was hard since I had to look past him at the clock, but I lasted until the bell rang. I made it through fifth period. The clock on the wall made a small clicking noise every second, giving me an anxious feeling. It was relieving to hear the last bell echo throughout the school.

The parking lot was packed as I tried to get to my car. As soon as there was space, I backed out and started to the main road, waiting in the line of leaving cars. I glanced out the window and tapped my forefinger on the dashboard. Jasper was staring at me from the Volvo across the lot. My face flushed and I moved forward.

When I returned home, Mary was sitting at the table holding a rectangular card in her hand.

"Oh," she gasped. "Hello, Allison."

I dropped my bag on the stairs and peer over her shoulder at the card, expecting a house bill or something. "What's that?" I pulled it from her loose fingers and examine it.

"It's your ticket," she said.

"My airplane ticket?" I clarified. She nodded. Was I finally going back home to my father, back to the land of sun? "To Houston?"

Mary laughed an echoing belly laugh. "No, sweetie! It's for your trip to Italy, for the holidays! You leave this Saturday, the twentieth."

"This Saturday?" We released Friday early from school in honor of Christmas. Mary nodded excitedly.

"Isn't this wonderful?" she squealed. "Oh, you're going to have such a great time!" She hugged me and told me to keep the ticket in a safe place, as to not lose it. "Take pictures for me!"

I returned to my room and slipped the ticket in my jewelry box, locking the latch. At this time Saturday morning, I would be on a plane to Italy, land of great food and my relatives. Finally, I got to see relatives I hadn't seen in years.

"When are you leaving?" Jasper asked. It was the next day at the beginning of Physics. He leaned one hand on the tabletop. I'd no idea how he knew I was leaving, but he found out from someone.

"I want answers," I said ignoring his confusing question. "You need to give me some answers here. You promised me you'd tell me. You never told me about that day at my house."

"Yes, no," he chuckled. "To get to the other side."

I groaned. "You've been acting so weird lately. What's up with you? You're not like you were before."

His face dropped. "Family issues. Nothing to worry about, though."

With that, he sat down.

He didn't talk to me, ignored me practically, for the rest of the day, except in History for an extra pencil, although the person next to him was just as likely to have a pencil as I was. Heather started to fade back into her old self at lunch, making small talk with me and commenting on the weather, although it was the same every day. It was a nice change.

Melissa was still in Boston for her mother's funeral and I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to her; Conner was still in the hospital. I had a feeling we wouldn't be seeing either of them for a few more days.

Wednesday and Thursday went uninterrupted by Jasper; he acted . . . somewhat normal. Well, whatever normal was. He only commented once or twice to me during those two days, and that was to tell me my hair looked nice. He was acting . . . friendly. It was odd; I didn't understand it and it was freaking me out a little.

One minute, he wanted nothing to do with me, and the next, he was all buddy-buddy with me.

My nightmares had lessened significantly. They were short and I saw only glimpses of the images. I learned to endure them, to not scream or roll over the side of the bed. Things were kind of looking up in my favor.


	14. Please Read

Hello, readers.

It has come to my decision that I will be ending "The Lightning Strike" right here. Now, before any of you go into extreme shock, I would like to explain that the story will still be here, but in a different form.

I am officially rewriting "The Lightning Strike."

There were a few complications with my computer in which all the documents were lost, my writing time was lost, and I frankly lost a little interest. But now I am rewriting it because I have nothing better to do this summer until August, and plus, I didn't like my writing style all those months ago.

The story will still follow the life of Allison Rossi as she embarks on her move from Houston, Texas to Forks, Washington. There will still be the laid back, snarky Melissa, the bubbly Heather, and the stuttering Conner.

And of course, there will still be the flawless Cullens, including Jasper. Embry and Leah and Seth will be a part of the story as well.

I hope this is thrilling for some of you. After I get the first few chapters written, this story will be taken down and the new and improved "The Lightning Strike" will be put in its place.

Thank you for your time,

- F Elizabeth


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